


A Pardon Granted

by Star-Lord Stark (SpookzMagenta)



Series: Blackmail is a Harsh Term (Let's Call it Chicanery) [4]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Dimensions, Alternate Realities, Alternate Timelines, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bastardized Norse Mythology, Bastards in Love, Because Thanos, Childbirth, Chitauri Army, Evil Tony, Extremis Tony, God Tony, Hero Loki, Infinity Gauntlet, Infinity Gems, Inhuman Tony, Lies, M/M, Magical Tony, Mind Control, Mischief, Mpreg, Pepper is an Avenger, Prince Consort Tony, Rescue Armor, Revived Frigga, The Norns are Bitches, but not really, golden apples, intersex jotnar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 00:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8776369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookzMagenta/pseuds/Star-Lord%20Stark
Summary: In the aftermath of the fallout between the Avengers, things with Tony and Loki were tense, to say the least.  Odin's awakening from the Odinsleep was in no way helping matters.  Overall, Tony was beginning to feel like his life could draw too many parallels with Rosemary's Baby.  But with Thanos looming on the horizon, Gamora and Garmr would not be alone in granting that particular devil his due.  With Tony's newfound powers, he could very well be the greatest weapon in the Mad Titan's arsenal.





	1. What Fairytales are (not) Made of

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it finally is guys! I apologize so sincerely for the fact that I'm still finishing up and editing the last three chapters. Real life got in the way big time (to keep a long story short: surgeries, chronic illness/pain and adjusting to medications for it, hunting for apartments in another state over a thousand miles away, etc. etc. etc.). I do promise you will be getting the rest of the story within the next three days (I'm aiming for by tomorrow evening, but I don't want to promise that if the ending ends up going for a bit longer than I've estimated). I figured you all would rather have the majority now, however, and I hope you'll forgive me <3 Art is also still forthcoming from the lovely Letzi <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, woopsy. Go figure, my muse has gifted the Infinity Wars with more material than anticipated. I apologize so much that this is still not done because of illness and out of state apartment hunting, but I do believe I should have all twelve chapters to you all by Sunday evening now. This is part four of my series which begins with A Favor Owed, proceeds to A Service Rendered, then to A Debt Payed. It's been a beyond fantastic experience working with the frostironbang each year for what started as my first fanfiction and became my first series.   
> The wonderful artist Letzi has been by my side for three out of four bangs, and really deserves all of the recognition in the world, as this year she took me on as a pinch hitter. Here is the absolutely adorable art she did for me (which goes with the as yet to be posted end of the story): http://disizletzi.tumblr.com/post/154185193959/art-for-this-years-frostiron-bang-i-am-so

Loki turned to Frigga with a sense of unease as they set foot in the halls of his childhood home.  He felt a churning in his magic, the source of which he was only far too certain of.  Ever the thorn in his side, Stark had gone and done something foolhardy once more.  Were circumstances not what they were, Loki would let the daft mortal suffer the consequences without interference.  But the state of Stark’s health was concerning, and Loki could only pray to the Norn’s that this premonition of disaster he felt skittering across his spine was unfounded, that the Midgardian would be safe until his return.

Frigga noted his discomfort, but quite understandably misinterpreted its source.

“Loki, you knew well that this charade of yours could not last, and considering how far the Mad Titan’s machinations have advanced, Odin should be the least of your worries.”

Loki gave her an arch stare.  “As unenthused as I may be about our present task, it is not that which bothers me.”

Understanding lit in Frigga’s eyes.  “Surely no trouble could have befallen him in the little time since we left?”

“I am afraid you underestimate this particular mortal, Mother.”

They continued in silence as they traveled further and further downward into the depths of Asgard’s underbelly toward their destination, though Frigga seemed less sure in their task since the words they had exchanged.  Finally, they came upon the hidden door to the chamber in which their quarry lay.  With a wave of Loki’s hand and a flare of his seidr, the entryway appeared before them, door swinging silently open.  Loki gestured for Frigga to enter ahead of him, and narrowed his eyes as he came once more face to face with his foster father.

Odin was nearly as haggard in appearance as when Loki had secured him in this chamber upon his entry into the Odinsleep.  However, much as Loki was loathe to wake the god at all, they could ill afford to allow him further time to recuperate.  Loki came to stand opposite his mother over the slumbering figure of Odin, and once there, the two began chanting, and the room was bathed in the turquoise light of their combined magics. 

Their work was painstakingly slow, and Odin’s mind and body resisted the return to consciousness, still too weak for the pull of the waking world to be natural.  But finally, Loki could feel the feather-light brush of the god’s mind stirring, could see a sheen of color return to the pallor of his face.  He turned his attention back to Frigga.

“You are more than capable of handling the rest, are you not, Mother?”  His voice was droll, concealing his very real impatience, the tinge of worry that he could not quite shake.

The expression she turned on him was all at once exasperated, fond, and fearful. 

“Go to your mortal, Loki.  If you are this unsettled, you cannot afford to be detained when he returns to himself.”

Loki had begun to teleport before the words had finished passing her lips.  He felt the crack and pull of hurtling through such a distance, and felt himself reforming in Stark’s manor.

Loki extended his senses, reaching for the mortal.  When his whereabouts were not immediately forthcoming, his features pulled into a scowl, and he stomped to the room where he had sensed the only other magic user in residence.  As he stopped before the door to their chamber, he threw it open without knocking.

“Farbauti, why is Anthony not in the manor?”  His features were frozen in a mask of deathly calm.

The frost giant turned to him in surprise, and the expression on his all too familiar face was full of guilt.

“He would not be reasoned with.  I could not stop him without doing him damage, and in his state…”

Loki cut off the other’s excuses.  “Where.  Is.  He?”

Farbauti’s eyes were grim.

 

Loki reappeared in the hospital, after a brief but informative detour, his form becoming tangible where he sensed the gentle hum of Stark’s familiar magic.  When he turned to the mortal, the mortal who looked as though he’d been forced through a meat tenderizer, his eyes were far to calm.  As was his voice.

“Anthony, whatever have you gotten up to while I’ve been away?”

The man’s eyes opened, though Loki felt no guilt, for he knew that Stark had not actually been sleeping.  He was too furious to feel any satisfaction at the immediate pallor that spread across the mortal’s features.

“Loki.”  Stark’s voice was a rasp.

Loki stalked slowly, patiently forward, hands laced leisurely behind his back, to come to a stop right at Stark’s bedside.  He reached out and grabbed the mortal’s chin in his hand, forcing him to turn to meet his eyes.

“I want answers, Stark.”

He was too sick with fury still to feel any satisfaction at the obvious guilt in his lover’s eyes.

“Loki, I had to.  What was I supposed to do?  Just let Steve and the others off of the hook?  Let them get away without any consequences for their actions?  Leave them responsible to no one, let a man that could at any moment be turned into a living weapon go free and cause an incident like this to happen again?”

Loki snarled.  “Did it ever occur to you that was exactly what you should have done?  What do you have to show for your efforts?  You and yours have effectively been castrated by your human governments, and you’ve estranged nearly all of your beloved team.”  Loki’s grip tightened, precariously close to the mortal’s throat, his eyes flashing with pent up rage.  “You would have lost your life, had it not been for the mercy of your former allies, and all for what?  To avenge the deaths of your parents, who died so long ago, whose true murderer is likely already rotting in the ground with them?” 

Stark was scrabbling at his hand now, eyes spitting fire.

“You would have doomed us, Stark, you may still have doomed us, and for what?  A grudge you did not even know to carry until years after the fact?”  He pressed his other hand to Stark’s abdomen, to the still subtle curve of it.  “You would have risked their lives for your pride, out of your infuriating need to be right, to place the burden of all responsibility upon yourself?”  Loki loosed his hold on the mortal’s face, turning away in disgust.  “You are no more now than when I first appeared to you in your drunken self pity.”

He could sense the seething anger of the man behind him. 

“I never intended to fight.  I did my best to keep it from coming to that, to keep myself out of the field, but there was no way I was letting a brainwashed super soldier walk around unsupervised and without taking responsibility for his own actions.”

“Are you forgetting that it is only due to the kindness of others and the ceaseless pooling of their magic into you that you are even alive?”

Stark scoffed.  “I pooled every ounce of my magic into protecting them, Loki.”

The god turned back to face the mortal, face expressionless.  “Yes, so much so that you were nearly the next victim of that super soldier and your so called friend.  Had you died, your protection of them would have mattered little.  Besides which, the glamor you’ve been utilizing to conceal your condition would have taken much valuable protection away from yourself and our offspring.”

Stark was nearly growling in fury.  “You think I don’t know all of that, Loki?  What, you think I’m an idiot?  You think I planned on this being the way that things turned out?”

Loki bit out the words, “What you intended is of no importance.  You still could have doomed everything in your stubbornness, Stark.  I’d say that you were lucky to be alive, lucky to not have lost the pregnancy, but that would be a lie.  If you’ve doomed our chances of defeating Thanos, a far worse death awaits us all.”

The eyes that Stark turned on him were hollow.

“Get out.”

The god cocked a venomous smile, and in a flash, disappeared.


	2. Tony is a Prima Donna

When Odin opened his eyes, he distinctly wondered if he was, in fact, in the afterlife.  The wife he knew to be dead gazed back at him, a gentle smile on her face.  As he registered the deep ache in his bones and the lethargy that remained from his slumber, he grew less convinced that he had made his journey to the realms of the dead.  As he recalled the specifics of the events that led to the Odinsleep in this particular instance, and all he had seen while his mind and magic were displaced as his Aesir body lay all but lifeless, his face creased into a scowl.

Frigga anticipated his line of thought, centuries of marriage having schooled her in the art of reading him. 

“I am alive, it is no trick.; indeed, I shall remain thus, should no further calamities fall upon me.”  Her expression turned cautious.  “You have your disinherited son to thank for it.”

Odin hissed as he brought himself abruptly upright. 

“If Loki has indeed revived you, I worry for what purpose he may have done so.”  He made to stand. 

Frigga rushed to his side, stilling his motions. 

“Husband, I know well how Loki has broken your faith in him.  Not all is at it has seemed, however.”

“Where is Thor?  Surely he has returned to manage Asgard in my stead, especially after such chaos befell it.”

Frigga’s eyes were hesitant.

“Then whom, pray tell, has been ruling the Realm Eternal in my stead?”

The manner in which Frigga’s face leeched of color gave him answer enough.  Odin trembled with rage.

 

Loki stood in the wilds of Vanaheimr, not yet over his ill humor with his human paramour.  Be that as it were, however, Loki was well aware that something had to be done about the foolish mortal.  Frigga and Farbauti could not successfully keep him contained, and Loki was going to be hard pressed to ease the damage that Stark had caused to their efforts against Thanos.  He could not be the man’s keeper, and separated from the supportive magics of Loki, Frigga, and Loki’s Jotunn sire, the mortal’s health would fail quickly.

Despite this, the only insurance that Loki could procure them was an absolutely horrid idea.  Loki did not wish for Stark to die, and despite the fact that their offspring had only been conceived by the ‘grace’ of Thanos, he did not wish an untimely end for the lives that were currently incubating in Stark, either.  If Loki went through with this mad plan, it could likely be that only Thanos would serve to benefit from it, however.  Thanos, whose hold over Stark grew stronger with every passing day; Thanos, whom had already enslaved their offspring in other realities, other timelines by grace of the cursed Infinity Gems and his malevolent powers.

Loki loathed that he cared so deeply for the mortal that he was willing to make such a gamble, that Stark’s safety somehow outweighed the risk of Thanos using Stark to eek out his wrath upon the Nine Realms.  Loki steeled himself, bringing his roiling emotions to heel, and set out in the direction of the woman who had already once nearly cost him his life. 

 

Tony collapsed into his favorite armchair in the manor with a huff.  Across from the room, Bruce turned brooding eyes toward him.

“Save it, Bruce.  I already got that spiel from Loki.” 

Bruce’s eyes flashed eerily green in annoyance, and the doctor cleared his throat. 

“What did you expect, Tony?  That you would just go out and risk your life, risk everything we’ve done thus far, just to fight it out with people who are supposed to be on our side?  People, I might add, that we need on our side now more than ever?”

Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes, groaning. 

“Bruce, I get it.  I was an idiot.  I fucked everything up.  But what would you have done?  Just sat back and relaxed with a super soldier terrorist threat on the loose?  Just trusted that Steve could be objective about this?  Just let the bastard go, knowing what he had done, what he was still capable of doing?”

Bruce’s features softened for an instant before he steeled himself again.

“Look, I know.  You don’t have to tell me how infinitely stupid it was, how Loki’s right to be done with my ass.  I don’t know how to fix this, and if I don’t fix it, Thanos is going to win.  But it’s not every fucking day you find out your parents were murdered, and the man that says he’s your friend, the man that they idolized, is just okay with that.  That he just wants the fucker to get off scot free, when if somebody just comes across that right little jumble of words again, he could go off and murder god knows how many other people.”

Bruce sighed, slumping down onto the sofa. 

“I’m not asking you to forgive them, Tony.  I wouldn’t have asked you to let him off the hook.  But there had to be another way, a better way, to deal with this fucking mess.”

Tony shrugged, huffing out a laugh. 

“Yeah, when you figure out what that is, let me know.  It’ll sure do us a lot of good now.”  He looked at Bruce, his expression bitter but with a faint hint of contrition, and teleported to his room.

 

Frigga kept a wary eye on Odin for some days after his awakening, anticipating the fallout from Loki’s antics.  However, Loki’s dominion over Asgard left little room for criticism, the realm being nearly returned to its former glory with repairs from the encounter with the dark elves nearly complete.  For that matter, so far as she was able to discern, neither was there anything amiss in the Realm Eternal.  She could tell how greatly it infuriated Odin, but her husband would not have lasted as All-Father for so great a span of time were he not logical and efficient as a ruler.  Though, she supposed, the battle with the dark elves could be seen as a newfound tear in the fabric of Odin’s steadfast leadership. 

Despite the necessity of her presence on Asgard, to placate Odin, Frigga grew ever more anxious to return to Midgard and her charge, Anthony Stark.  It was difficult to feed magic to another over such a vast distance, and she feared for the mortal after Loki’s abrupt departure.  The fact that Loki had failed to communicate with her in any fashion since only added to her feeling of foreboding. 

Finally, after several weeks at Odin’s side with nary a sign of his ill humor toward his foster son or of any nefarious plans to take Loki to hand, Frigga decided it was time she must needs return to the man who carried her grandchildren, the next generation of heirs to Asgard and Jotunheimr alike.  Taking her leave from Odin, however, was no simple task, especially considering her recent return from the afterlife.

As she approached the vastness of Asgard’s throne room, she steeled herself for the confrontation to come.  Convincing Odin would likely require her to make known to him the plans of the Mad Titan, and after his reaction to warning of the dark elves, she was unconvinced that he would take the matter at her, and thus at Loki’s, word.  Regardless of whether or not he trusted in her son, however, Frigga would not be detained from aiding the man whom had come to possess Loki’s heart, whether Loki was aware of the fact as of yet or no.

 

When Frigga made her arrival to Midgard, she knew not whether she should be pleased by the ease with which she had taken her leave of Odin.  She had only told him she must needs track down their errant sons, and Odin had bid her go.  Nothing in her husband’s recent behavior had given her cause for alarm, yet she could not help the sense that all was going too smoothly, too easily since Odin had awoken; a frisson of foreboding curled ceaselessly in her subconscious mind. 

Regardless of her unease, Frigga made haste to Stark’s bedside, where she found the mortal slumbering, her son nowhere to be found in the great manor in which the billionaire resided.  Frigga frowned slightly in concern at the absence of her son’s seidr, but grew further alarmed as she took in the battered appearance of the mortal.  At her small gasp, his eyes flew open and he jolted upright on his bed.

His eyes skittered about the room frantically before they settled on her and focused.  He gave a confused frown.

“I didn’t think you’d be back here, considering how butt hurt Lokey-Dokey is at me.”  Tony’s tone was flat.

Frigga felt a further stab of worry at the mortal’s words. 

“I am not merely a puppet to satisfy Loki’s whims, Mr. Stark.  When I agreed to your care, I meant it, and at any rate, my son has come to me with no tales of whatever your current romantic woes may be.”  She pinned him with a steely glare.  “Until such a time as you no longer require our care, Farbauti and myself shall remain by your side.  It is unfortunate that I had to leave you these past few weeks, but I assure you it is a circumstance that shall not repeat itself.”

Frigga sat at his bedside and began to scan Stark with her magic without further comment.  Her eyes narrowed in anger at the degree of damage she encountered in her perusal of the mortal’s health.  With his accelerated rate of healing from his borrowed magics and genetic alterations, the damage he sustained in whatever conflict he had been engaged in must have been severe indeed.  The stores of his magic were likewise severely depleted, though she could feel the gentle trickle of Farbauti’s seidr seeping into the man before her.  She added her own magic to that slowly pooling within the mortal, siphoning as much into him as she dared.

“I suspect whatever grievances my son has with you, in this instance they are well deserved.”

She watched Stark’s eyes momentarily flash with hurt before he skillfully covered his reaction, a trait that reminded her ever so much of her son.  She allowed her magic to lull the man further toward sleep once more, running a gentle hand through his disheveled hair.

“Do not worry yourself overmuch, Anthony.  Loki has not abandoned you; he will return to you in time.  Though I’d suggest that making amends with him become your utmost priority in the meantime.” 

The mortal was already drifting off to sleep, and she patted his head fondly, pulling the covers around his shoulders before she took her leave of him.

 

Odin frowned thoughtfully as Frigga made her retreat from the throne room.  Much as he loved his wife, it was clear that she was hiding something from him.  He knew not how his actions could have earned such distrust from her; Asgard’s laws had dictated what was to be done when it came to the matter of Loki, and even the All-Father would be condemned by his people, and by the peoples of other realms, should they find that he had made exception for one of his presumed offspring.  Revealing Loki’s true parentage should he have indeed made such an exception of him would not have aided his reputation.  Should his duplicity when it came to the matter of Loki’s true parentage be discovered, the people of Asgard would lose their faith in him to lead them, and the Norns only knew what would come to pass with the Jotnar under such circumstances.

Yes, indeed, Odin knew not what he had done to earn such distrust from his most trusted companion, his wife of millennia.  However, he knew something was afoot, and he knew the culprit could be no other than his renounced foster son.  He would find the truth of the matter, one way or another.  And should he have to stoop to spying on his own spouse, so be it.

As Odin set foot upon the Bifrost, he had quite convinced himself that he did not feel any guilt. 

 

Farbauti and Frigga joined Bruce in the library of the old manor, the giant arranging himself calculatedly to avoid an avalanche of tomes and bookcases.  Though Frigga had only briefly met with Farbauti before their current cohabitation, she found herself quite at ease with the Jotunn.  Perhaps it was the strong sense of similarity betwixt Loki and his dam that put her at such ease.  Regardless, she had grown quite fond of the giant who had borne her foster son. 

Farbauti seemed to find her equally companionable, if she was not mistaken.  However, Dr. Banner seemed quite discomfited with the pair of them, and shuffled uneasily as they entered his current sanctuary.

“Mr. Stark is sleeping, Dr. Banner, and shall remain so for quite some time to come, I imagine.  That being the case, I should be quite grateful if you and Farbauti-King could relay the details of what has befallen all of you in my absence.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.  “It might be easier for you to read about it than for me to relay it.”  He turned to the table beside of him, picking up a newspaper.

She frowned when she read the headline, ‘Captain America vs. Iron Man: Super-Humans War in the Aftermath of the Sokovia Accords.’

She carefully slipped the paper from his hands, her brows pulling tightly together as she skimmed the article’s contents.  When she finished, she uncharacteristically threw the paper back on the table in front of her.

“The daft fool.”  Farbauti’s lips twitched with mirth at the unforgiving description she made of the billionaire.

“He certainly is that.  I would expect no less of the man who wound his way into Loki’s affections, however.”

Frigga sighed in defeat.  “Such foolhardiness will not keep him in Loki’s affections, nor will it keep him alive.”

Bruce cleared his throat, gently.  “There’s something else we need to discuss.  The samples I’ve taken from Tony since his exposure to the Terrigen Mist have shown alterations in his DNA, as we expected, though I’ve seen no signs of any new powers or features in any of my time spent observing him here or in any of the news footage of his recent battles.”

Frigga and Farbauti turned to Banner expectantly, sensing that there was something more.

“Between undergoing Terrigenesis, his injections of an ‘improved’ formula of Extremis, the Jotunn DNA that has mingled with his from Loki and his magic, and whatever changes the Vibranium and Infinity Gems have triggered… there’s very little about his DNA that looks normal, or even earthly, anymore.  I have no idea what effect those different forces will achieve in a single organism, but I doubt it will be painless for anyone involved.”

Farbauti voiced the question on both his and Frigga’s minds.

“Do you believe, then, that he will be unable to survive in such a state?’”

Bruce sighed.  “Whether or not these alterations are life threatening, I have no idea, at least not in the long run.  At present, however, his cells, while appearing and functioning in a way that is nearly completely inhuman, are extremely resilient, even since this latest disaster.”

Bruce stood and began to pace.  “From what I can tell, any new powers he possesses either have yet to manifest, or they’re merely functioning as an extension of the powers he had already accumulated.”  He paused.  “It seems likely that Thanos knew this would happen, when he exposed Tony to the Terrigen Mist.  He truly is trying to weaponize him.”

Frigga and Farbauti exchanged a dark look, knowing only too well the purpose they were meant to carry out to prevent Thanos from gaining access to Stark and Loki’s offspring.  It seemed that things were just as dire as the mortal had feared; whatever his fearful new powers might happen to be, there was no mistaking what Thanos intended for him now.  They would have to steal Stark’s children from him upon their birth.  They would have to remove themselves from Midgard, Asgard, and Jotunheimr and go into hiding, lest Gamora and Garmr be turned against the Nine Realms as well.


	3. Motherfuckers with Eyepatches

Tony skillfully avoided his merry band of minders and nursemaids whenever possible over the next few days.  He was absolutely not sulking over his argument with Loki.  He was also definitely not avoiding acknowledging his pregnancy for what it was.  The very word still gave him the creepy-crawlies.  But it was becoming steadily more difficult to ignore, as the evidence of his condition expanded, altering his center of gravity and relegating his gait to something much less efficient than what he was used to.

All in all, Tony really, really, really fucking missed his alcohol.  But then, when you were on the verge of dying from an unplanned and (initially, at least; Tony wasn’t too sure how he felt about it anymore) unwanted alien pregnancy orchestrated by a cuckoo for cocoa puffs tyrant, he gathered booze was probably best avoided.  Tony really couldn’t think of a time he’d needed it more, however.

He was well aware that Frigga, Farbauti, and Bruce were having pow-wows behind his back to discuss him, and likely to discuss the imminent manifestation of whatever powers the Terrigen Mist had bestowed on him.  He could really give a fuck less, though.  Same shit, different day, different way to be dying.  Loki’s absence, however, really gnawed at him.  Tony knew he’d fucked up, immensely, even if he couldn’t quite bring himself to forgive Barnes, even if he couldn’t bring himself to regret how he’d reacted to the super soldier.  But his actions hadn’t just cost them Steve: Clint, Wanda, that idiot Lang, T’Challa, Wilson, and even Natasha had turned their backs on him this time.  He was all too aware of how few people that left in his corner.  Even Pepper was doing her best to avoid him these days.

Perhaps, ultimately, it was better this way, though.  He had no doubt that the Avengers would come together once more, when the looming threat of Thanos presented itself.  And if they had to face Tony then, if he had failed to find a way to resist Thanos’ pull on his mind, he hoped there would be no hesitation.

Tony was still brooding over his current circumstances when a roil of thunder sounded overhead.  He couldn’t help a slight chuckle of amusement at the ostentatiousness of the thunder god’s arrival.  Thor sure could make an entrance.  Mere seconds later, Tony heard the thunderous sound of the god’s footsteps echoing throughout the mansion, and felt a slight trickle of unrest.  When Thor burst through his door moments later, his face was, for the first time that Tony had seen it, truly panicked.  A deep coil of dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey Thor, ole buddy ole pal.  You’re back from the Realm Eternal awfully quick.”

The look Thor pinned on him was dreadfully serious.

“When I arrived on Asgard, Odin was not there.”

Tony paused, waiting for him to expand on that statement.  When no further information was forthcoming, his impatience got the better of him.

“What, exactly, is that supposed to mean, Thor?”

The blanched color of Thor’s face was deeply unsettling.

“If my father has left his post in Asgard’s halls, he can only be searching for Loki.  I fear that in his pursuit of my brother, he will soon happen upon you here, Stark.”

Yeah, Tony could see why the big guy was freaking out.  Tony was kind of freaking out, too.

“My magic… he can sense the bit of Loki’s that’s intermingled with it from the arc reactor, can’t he?”

Thor nodded.  “It is likely he can also sense it in the magic of the babes you carry, since they are half Loki’s and their magic is already so very strong.”

Tony took a deep breath, held it, and then slowly let it out.

“I think a situation like this calls for Frigga.  FRIGGA!”  Tony was not a bit ashamed of the panicked note he could hear in his voice.  But before Frigga could respond or appear, there was a violent crackle of magic in the room, and suddenly, horrifically, Odin was standing before him, eyepatch and all. 

The god pinned his remaining eye immediately on Tony, his gaze full of suspicion and something a lot like scorn.  Tony belatedly registered the sound of panting breath, and moments later, Frigga threw open the door in a similarly theatric fashion to that in which her son had.  Her face, already pulled into lines of worry, quickly settled into an expression of horror. 

“Ah, my dearest, so this is where you’ve been spending your time since Loki revived you.”

Frigga’s eyes flashed with uncharacteristic ire.

“Odin, why have you come here?”

The older god raised a brow archly.  Tony could maybe see where Loki got some of his less pleasant personality traits, though he’d certainly never be mentioning that to the Trickster.  However, as much of a dick as Loki could be, Tony had an inkling that this eyepatched motherfucker was probably going to be a trillion times worse.

“What, have you no words of welcome for your husband?  I merely followed the signature of Loki’s magic, and imagine my confusion when I found myself on Midgard in the company of my son and some mortal man who reeks of Loki’s seidr.”  Odin turned his gaze, once more, on Tony, and Tony was so not about that.  “Pray tell, mortal, just who are you to the God of Lies?”

Tony’s gaze darted desperately toward Frigga, and the All-Mother’s eyes were somber and apologetic.

“He is Anthony Stark, the Man of Iron, one of Midgard’s band of heroes called the Avengers, and our other son’s shield brother.”

Thor, who had until now been silent as disaster unfolded about him, finally intervened.

“Indeed, what mother says is true.  Stark is one of my trusted comrades, and no one who deserves your wrath, father.”

Odin’s eyes glinted with suspicion.

“Do you think that one who has ruled as long as I has merely done so out of dumb luck?  Evade my questions all you wish, I will still discover what duplicity is being carried out by the tyrant you would have me call ‘son.’”

A sense of dread settled in the pit of Tony’s stomach.  He’d known Odin was a less than friendly sort of fellow from snippets of conversation with Loki and grandiose tales from Thor.  Still, he’d never imagined he would have to come face to face with the god, and he’d never imagined that he would be the focus of his ire, as he was now.  Tony could see no way out of his current situation that did not end with bloodshed, unless they came clean and aired their dirty laundry now. 

As Frigga and Thor scrambled to divert the god, to ease his suspicions or at least misdirect him, Tony steeled himself.  As Odin bellowed for silence, Tony stood from his perch on the settee in his room, the coverlet that had been thrown across his lap falling away.  As Odin was currently not facing him, the god continued to unleash his ire, but noticing the shocked glances of Frigga and Thor, he grew quiet and turned to face Tony.  His eye widened slightly before he could mask his reaction as he came face to face with the now rapidly nearing gravid curve of Tony’s abdomen.  Tony’s arms jerked instinctively in an impulse to cover himself, to hide, but he resisted the urge, meeting Odin’s gaze defiantly.

“Are you satisfied now, All-Father?  Is this enough answer for you?  That miraculously, I, a mortal man, have been ‘blessed’ with the spawn of the son you scorn, wherever the bastard may be.”  Tony’s voice dripped with disdain.  “Bravo.  You’ve unearthed the big secret.  I hope it’s as scandalous as you had hoped.  Some welcome to the family this has been.  But then again, I guess royalty never have made much room for bastards.”

The god’s face was filled with both ire and confusion, though Tony was certain he would be infuriated to know it. 

“I know not how the present circumstances are possible, but with Loki’s involvement, it can be for naught but ill.”  Odin looked on Tony with pity and disdain.  “Were I you, I would cut my ties to him now.”

Frigga’s eyes flashed with fury.

“Odin, regardless of your grievances with Loki, this man carries your grandchildren.  He does so at the risk of his own life.  He is at least deserving of your respect.”

Odin scoffed at her. 

“What is respectable about a man who willfully spread his legs for Loki?  Either he is of deplorable character, to bed the enemy who tried to subjugate his own realm, or he is infinitely foolish to have been taken in by Loki’s lies.”

Here, Tony felt the tether on his own temper snap.  He edged forward menacingly, his eyes glowing a violent and unnatural blue with the sudden flare of his magic.

“Now listen here, pops.  I don’t care who the fuck you are on Asgard.  You’re on Midgard, and this is my playground.  No man or god will stand in my own home and vilify me.  They certainly will not stand here, in my own goddamn bedroom, and vilify my children or their other father.  So you can get the fuck out of here.  Your welcome wore itself out as soon as you set foot here.”

As Tony’s tirade wound down, he saw the stunned expression on Thor’s face and Frigga’s mouth tightening in concern, perhaps even fear.  Well, fuck that.  Tony would not be apologizing to his fucking majesty.  He groveled to no one, especially someone so pompous as to assume he knew the details of Tony’s life or the relationship that he and Loki had so painfully forged.

Odin’s eye narrowed threateningly.

“Mortal, you should watch your tongue when you address me.”

“Fucking Christ.  I can see why Loki is such a pain in the ass, if he’s had to put up with your sour old ass for millennia.  I just met you and I can’t wait to get the fuck away from you.”

Odin nearly snarled with rage, lip curling and spittle frothing at his lips as he bit out his next words.

“Stark, was it?  You will regret crossing me even more than you will surely come to regret your dalliance with that wretched Jotunn fosterling I took under my roof.”

Tony’s magic flared threateningly around him, unbidden.  Odin’s eyes narrowed further and his face pulled into lines of disgust.

“I see you possess the same vile excuse for seidr that Loki employs.  No wonder he was taken enough with you to involve you in whatever his current plots entail.”

Tony cackled mirthlessly, and honestly, a bit unhinged.

“You just keep believing that, you old coot.  Now get the fuck out.”

Just as abruptly as the god had crackled into existence, he flashed out of the mansion with equal volume, and the menace in his eyes left Tony, unwillingly, a bit censured for his behavior.  Not that he regretted it, and not that Odin hadn’t been entirely out of line, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a god that didn’t make idle threats.  And yeah, being on the bad side of Odin fucking All-Father was exactly the last thing he needed right now.

Tony sighed, sinking back onto the settee and rubbing his hands over his face.  After a moment, he felt Frigga’s gentle hand brush across his hair.  When he met her eyes, they were equally full of worry and sympathy.

“Loathe as I am to leave your side once more, I feel I needs must make an attempt to pacify my husband.  He is not usually prone to such fits of temper or irrationality, but I fear the rupture in his trust in Loki is deep, and it has stained his perception of all having to do with our youngest son.”

Tony nodded, but wasn’t entirely convinced that his faux pas upon meeting his second royal deity would be so easily mended.  And he wasn’t necessarily certain he wanted it to be.  Being chummy with Odin honestly sounded no more appealing than being on the god’s shit list right now.

“I’m sure Farbauti and I will manage to make do until you return.  Who knows, maybe Loki will even deign to grace us with his presence again.” 

Frigga’s brow furrowed with displeasure.

“Stark, you know well that he had more than good reason for his ire at you over recent circumstances.”

Tony did his best playing at not feeling guilty, but by the way Frigga’s eyes softened in sympathy, he was apparently unsuccessful.  She leaned down and brushed his forehead with a feather light kiss.

“I will return to you as quickly as I am able, my son.  In the meantime, do not do anything so foolish as the last time I left you to your own devices without Loki near.”  Her eyes were stern, but affectionate.  Tony couldn’t for life of him fathom what he had done to earn her warmth.

As Frigga exited the room to make her way to the pathway outside that she and Thor had been utilizing for the Bifrost, Bruce and Farbauti’s guilty faces were revealed.  Tony sighed in resignation.

“Of course you all apparently heard everything.”

Bruce nodded sheepishly, and if Tony wasn’t mistaken, he could swear he saw Farbauti jab him in the ribs and aim a theatric glare at him.  Had he indeed just witnessed that, the ribbing at least seemed good natured, as Bruce shrugged nonchalantly in reply to Farbauti’s unvoiced dissention with Bruce giving them away.

Now, Thor turned to Tony with guilty eyes.

“Friend Tony, I am deeply sorry for my father’s treatment of you.  I think perhaps it is best if I join mother in her attempts to pacify him.”

Tony waved a hand listlessly in the direction of the door.

“Yeah, yeah.  Sure, big guy.  That’d be swell.  Just don’t, you know, come back in pieces or anything.  Though I guess with you being the only acknowledged heir anymore, that’s not so much of a worry?”  Tony’s voice maybe sounded a little more hopeful and unsure than he’d intended.  Oh well.

Thor clasped Tony’s shoulder in his meaty hand.

“All will be well in time, Stark, I promise you this.  Things may be difficult for some while yet, but I will do my utmost to ensure your safety.”

Tony patted the big guy on the back, a little too touched at his obviously heartfelt words. 

“I know you will, Point Break.  Just make sure you look out for yourself, too.”

Thor smirked.  “Aye, Stark.  So long as you promise to take every care when it comes to my future niece and nephew, I will do my best to ensure my own safe return, as well.”

Tony chuckled.  “You play dirty, big guy.  I suppose I’ll have to take you up on that, though.  Not like my nursemaids are going to give me any option to do otherwise.”  He winked at the god of thunder, and with that, bid the remainder of the Asgardian faction adieu.

He turned back to Bruce and Farbauti.

“God, I am so done with this fucking day.”

 

Loki watched his quarry from the shadows.  Her hair was golden as the sun on a clear winter morning, eyes twin pools of the brightest sky blue.  Her skin was a lush shade of peach, and she was draped in billowing, satin white garments.  She had not aged a day since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, then a curious boy hardly more than a toddler.  He remembered his childlike fascination with the gentle glow of power that surrounded her and the peaceful aura she imbued to all in her presence.  Of course, he’d not had long to stare in wonder of her, not whilst she was under the ever attentive watch of Bragi.  The ham-fisted god had hauled Loki away by the scruff of his neck, and being one of the heirs to the Realm Eternal was all that had saved him from a fierce beating. 

However, Bragi had since fallen out of Odin’s favor, and his beloved waif of a wife was left untended for the first time since he had set his sights on her.  That wasn’t to say that Idunn was not a worthy challenge in and of herself.  However, Loki far preferred the battle of wits that she presented to the barbary of her beloved.

A voice that was melodious and tinkled like bells called across the clearing to where Loki stood shrouded at the edge of the forest.

“Little Loki, have you come to call on me again?”  The smile the goddess turned in his direction was the very image of serenity, and Loki momentarily felt himself transported to that first moment in time when he had set eyes on her, besotted as any youth would have been by her beauty. 

Loki stepped out of the shadows. 

“Indeed, Idunn.  There is a favor that I must ask of you.”

The goddess’ tranquil expression did not falter. 

“And if I cannot grant your request, young prince?”

Loki felt a coil of unease in the pit of his stomach. 

“Then I must find another means of procuring that which I desire.”

The goddess hummed thoughtfully. 

“If you may find what it is you seek of your own accord, I shall not prevent you from your task.  However, you will find that my magics are discerning; only those who prove worthy of heart may lay hands upon the treasure of the Aesir.  And as I’m certain you are all too aware, such magic always demands a price.”

Loki took a deal of time in voicing his reply.

“Whatever price the magic demands, it shall be paid in full.”

Idunn’s eyes were kind as they met his.

“Then I bid you luck upon your quest, my prince.”

Loki watched, disconcerted, as Idunn abruptly shimmered and disappeared.  As her presence dissipated, so too did his surroundings alter in her absence. 


	4. Peeping Heimdall

As Bruce poked and prodded at him for what felt like the millionth time, Tony groused and swatted at his hands.

“Why do we have to do this so damn often?”

Bruce gave him a droll stare that still somehow managed to convey just how much of an idiot he was coming to think Tony was.  Farbauti made a gentle soothing sound from the other side of the room, and Tony should really be fucking offended at the giant’s gall.  Yet somehow, distressingly, he found himself the tiniest bit soothed by the Jotunn’s antics.

“You’re nearly at the end of what would be the second trimester for a human woman, Tony, so of course, considering the vast array of complicating factors involved, it’s necessary that we examine you quite thoroughly and quite frequently.”  Bruce grumbled.  “Believe me, this isn’t exactly how I’d spend my time, ideally.”

Tony huffed a semblance of a laugh.

“What, you mean you don’t get your jollies checking out your bro’s new and improved intersex equipment downstairs?”

The sound Bruce made was strangled, and Tony was counting that as a win.  Bonus points if he could get a tinge of Hulk green frustration to swirl across Bruce’s irises.  And yeah, maybe Tony should be finding a new way to get his own jollies instead of baiting the Hulk.  Being housebound was really not good for all of that Stark energy, especially now that Tony had been forbidden tinkering in his lab.  With no place for all of that genius to go, things tended to get messy.

“Though a Midgardian pregnancy usually lasts forty weeks, Jotunn pregnancies are ideally of a duration of fifty weeks.  That being said, however, I believe we shall be lucky if Anthony makes it past 35 weeks in the pregnancy, considering the undue strain on his body.”

Tony flopped fully down onto the bed with a put-upon sigh.

“All right, all right.  Enough already with the doom and gloom.  Just get on with the creepy gynecological hoodoo so I can get a look at the buns that are baking in that oven.”  Strangely, for all that the idea of it all still horrified Tony, he felt a tiny trill of curiosity, and maybe even, dare he say it, anticipation at seeing the tiny organisms he could occasionally feel fluttering about queerly in his innards. 

Bruce put away the most horrifying of his implements, exchanging them for the probe of the ultrasound machine.  Tony pointedly looked away as Bruce uncovered the new curve of his belly, slathering it in gel before he applied the wand to Tony’s skin.  When Tony turned to face the machine this time, he felt his heart stutter as he came face to face with a fetus that was rapidly becoming more recognizable for the infant it would become, so long as his body held up long enough.

It was still utterly unnerving when Bruce readjusted the probe to show Tony’s son, to hear the much more rapid fire pace of his canid heartrate.  Being pregnant was humiliating enough without adding in the fact that he was, in fact, also expecting a fucking puppy. 

As Bruce finished up and tucked away his medical equipment, Tony took a moment to resent the fact that, once again, Loki was not there to cope with this madness with him.  He felt a tug of resentment in his gut, but quickly shut it away in the same place he kept his horror and fear over the pregnancy and Thanos’ impending invasion of Midgard and of Tony’s own mind.  Sure, denial was going to screw him over at some point, but until then, he and denial were going to be bosom buddies.

 

Thor and Frigga stormed the castle when they arrived back on Asgard.  Well, figuratively, at least.  Thor strode forward ahead of his mother, flinging open the doors to his father’s chambers.  The All-Father greeted them with a serene smile, as though the scene at Stark’s mansion on Midgard had never taken place, much less only a handful of moments earlier in the evening.  Thor knew enough of his father’s temper to find himself uneasy, perhaps even afraid. 

Frigga, taking in the state of things with quick and canny eyes, made a strategic retreat from the room.  Thor couldn’t be certain, but he hoped she was on her way to procure them aid in their oncoming battle of wills with the king of the Aesir. 

“Whatever can I do for you, my son?” Odin’s voice was saccharinely sweet, and Thor felt himself wince quite unintentionally.

He braced himself to confront Odin on his own, until his mother arrived, gods willing, with reinforcements.

“Father, do not let your grievances with Loki cloud your judgement.  Greater ills are afoot than even Loki could hope to be responsible for.”

Odin snorted, without mirth.

“I am supposed to take comfort in that fact, am I?  Likely the beast is aiding and abetting the mastermind behind whatever dastardly fate is about to befall us.”

Thor edged closer to his father, painstakingly clinging to an air of calm he did not feel.

“Aye, indeed that is what I thought myself, at first.  But you have not seen Loki since his imprisonment here; you have not seen him with Stark, how he reacted when he learned of the children the man carried.  I know my brother, for better or worse.  Even the God of Lies is not that dedicated of a liar.”

“You’ll have to excuse me if I find myself unconvinced.”  Odin turned away from him, a clear dismissal.

Thor cleared his throat and waited, for seconds that seemed to last centuries, for his father to acknowledge him.  When his gesture of assent finally came, it was not a moment too soon.

“Father, whatever you may think of Loki, and however horridly your own interaction with him may have gone… please, hold none of this against Stark.  He is as fine a warrior and shield-brother as I have ever encountered, and the weight of all of this has wearied him greatly.  He is a true hero, if ever I have known one.  And if he is indeed a victim of Loki’s schemes, he is no more gullible nor culpable than I.  You wouldn’t accuse me of aiding in treachery, if indeed Loki is involved in such, would you?  I who have done all within my power, sometimes ill-advisedly to be certain, but nonetheless with the best of intentions, to protect the Realm Eternal?  To be the son and heir that you, mother, and Asgard deserve?”

When Odin turned once more to face him, he looked weary.  But before the god could make a response, Frigga reappeared, for once looking slightly flustered, Heimdall’s imposing figure looming solemnly behind her.  Thor felt his own breath hitch on a gasp as his father’s eye widened, brows creasing with ill humor.

“What is the meaning of this, wife?  Heimdall, what could possibly have occurred that is of import enough for you to have left your post?”

Frigga’s mouth creased with tension, and the look she turned upon her husband was hard.

“Husband, think hard upon your actions when we were faced with the looming threat of the dark elves.  You distrusted your son, dismissed me, and Asgard almost fell for it.  I, in fact, died for it.”  Her eyes softened ever so slightly at the way Odin’s expression tightened.  “Since the word of both your wife and son is not enough to stay your hand on the matter of Loki’s guilt, I have ensured that you will hear the facts from an unbiased party, for if you refuse to listen to Heimdall, then I know you are truly lost to reason.”

The all-seeing guardian of the Bifrost’s eyes gleamed amber as he stepped forward.

“All-Father, the Mad Titan approaches.  I fear he has set his sights on the Nine Realms, and Asgard in particular.  He will make his move soon.”

As both Odin and Thor’s faces blanched, Frigga faced them, unbending.

“I trust you do not think even Loki so foolish as to knowingly and willfully align himself with such a monster, husband.”

The look he turned on her was grim.

“That remains to be seen.”

 

Thor and Frigga’s abrupt return to Tony’s manor set everyone ill at ease.  The urgency with which the two deities assembled the other occupants of the manse had a niggle of worry twisting in Tony’s gut.  Or maybe that was just the queer sensation of his offspring frolicking about in his innards.  At any rate, Tony imagined that distinct unease was, in this instance, the more likely explanation.

Frigga’s expression was tight with worry when she addressed them.

“Our worst fears are finally coming to fruition; Thanos is about to make his move on the Nine Realms.  Heimdall has seen his imminent arrival, and believes he means to strike Asgard first.”

Tony’s stomach roiled with a sudden bout of nausea as he fought a creeping sense of panic.

“Worse yet, I am unable to locate Loki, and we are woefully unprepared.”

Tony didn’t need anyone to remind him that this was, in fact, owed in large part to him due to his recent endeavors.

Thor stepped forward.

“Bruce, while it troubles me to take you from friend Stark, I trust my Mother and Farbauti will be able to see to his care.  Unfortunately, though Loki’s repairs to Asgard have been mostly completed, I fear we are still ill equipped to face such an attack.”  Thor’s expression was deadly serious.  “If your other self could aid in our defense, Asgard may have a chance at survival.”

Tony didn’t need to look to know that Bruce’s eyes would be roiling with unnatural green.  His friend stood silent a beat too long, corralling the beast within, before he lifted his gaze to answer.

“I’ll return to Asgard with you, Thor.”

Thor nodded, a wealth of gratitude in his eyes.

“Thank you, my friend.”

As Tony watched his friends depart, he felt his heart sink.  Not only did his own condition render him unable to help defend Asgard against Thanos, but his actions had scattered the rest of the Avengers on the wind.  There was no way they would be able to track them down, to explain, in time for them to reach Asgard to aid in Thor and Bruce’s defense of the realm. 

No, Tony might not be able to help Thor and Bruce, at present.  But Thanos would be gunning for earth, once he was finished with Asgard, for better or worse.  And Tony could do something about the mess he’d made in time to save his planet from what he was beginning to think he was doomed to become.


	5. Pride (Prowl?) Rock

When F.R.I.D.A.Y. finally managed to track down the last known sighting of Captain America, Tony found himself hardly surprised that the man had been traveling with a companion whose description matched that of Bucky Barnes, and that the pair were about to cross over the border into Wakanda.  He was even less surprised that the trail of both men went cold after that.  He wasn’t even going to attempt with the others, because if he knew Natasha, and he certainly had been beginning to, she wouldn’t take kindly to being found.  Add to that how protective Clint would be of the wife and kids, especially after his near miss with lifelong imprisonment after the official dissolution of his former employer, and Tony wasn’t about to be going to him with the olive branch, either.

The others?  Wilson and Lang barely knew him from Adam, and Wanda would need to be handled with kid gloves after how spectacularly things had blown up, and just how deeply she was personally affected by the basis for the Sokovia Accords.  No, Tony had to take this directly to the source, had to make his amends with those he felt had wronged him, so they could bring the team back together.  So they could survive.  And that, apparently, meant going to confront Wakanda’s new king.

 

Tony didn’t bother with the bureaucratic and diplomatic bullshit on this one; he still believed in the necessity of the Accords, overall, but yeah, he was beginning to see that there were some points that needed fine tuning.  Because Thanos?  Wasn’t going to be waiting on a bunch of pissy little politicians to get their shit together enough to let the world’s super powered, or enhanced, or whatever the flying fuck they wanted to call people like the Avengers, save the day.

So Tony snuck into Wakanda, just like he would have done in the good ole’ days.  And it was a good thing his tech was leagues above and beyond the competition, because it seemed like his new cloaking technology had successfully gotten him not only into Wakandan airspace, but all the way to the Black Panther’s very home without a hitch.  Getting in, though, now that might be a bit more problematic.

Tony used an EMP to short out pesky things like surveillance cameras in the area while he used his suit to override the command codes on the security and grant him access.  As the reinforced door clicked open in front of him, he kept his preening to a minimum.  While he was still technically invisible thanks to his cloaking technology, it would only be a matter of moments before someone noticed the cameras had went down and the door had been overridden and then the muscle around this place would come running.

Tony quickly slid into the mansion, ducking around a corner as stealthily as he could.  He felt grateful, now more than ever, for the steady pouring of Frigga and Farbauti’s magic into him.  Frigga had pursed her lips in displeasure when he told them of his newest schemes, but ultimately agreed that it had to be done.  Farbauti had attempted to look stern, at least while Frigga was watching, but his eyes had been desperately fond.  Their magic had allowed Tony enough strength to maintain a strong glamour, and fortunately, through their careful assistance in crafting it, Tony felt and moved more lightly and nimbly than he had in several months. 

So nimbly, that even as he heard the clomping and shouting that came with a suspected breach in security, he managed to explore a great swathe of the house, ducking around corners or tucking himself against walls if his scanners picked up on anyone nearby.  Finally, he came to what looked like an office.  As he ducked behind the door, he found himself surprised as it swung shut, a short vibranium blade protruding from it.  He barely had time to brace himself before he was grappled from behind, an arm unerringly making its way around his neck in a stranglehold.

Instinctively, Tony felt himself curl inward around the disguised curve of his abdomen.  Instead of retaliating, as he would have done so few months ago, he immediately dropped the cloaking on his suit, going limp in the grip of his attacker.  If he was gasping rather pitifully for breath, and perhaps shaking the barest fraction, fuck off, it wasn’t as if anyone could tell it through the suit.  He didn’t like to chalk things up to anything as mundane as hormones; it rang too much of an excuse.  But he’d be damned if he’d been this faltering and wimpy before his body was unwillingly recruited to gestate the next brood of alien royalty. 

As the cloaking on his suit disappeared, he felt the figure behind him stiffen, and then, abruptly, he was released.  He heard shouting from the hallway, as he fought to catch his breath, and his assailant’s response in a foreign tongue from behind him.  Whatever words they’d exchanged, they must not have given him up, because after a dubious silence, heavy footsteps retreated from the other side of the door. 

As Tony finally found some degree of composure, he flipped his faceplate up and turned to meet his mysterious savior, only to come face to face with the king of Wakanda himself, T’Challa.  Tony did his best to look small and unthreatening, though he didn’t think his patented Stark showman smile was winning him any new fans in Wakanda so far.  T’Challa’s expression, in fact, turned from suspicious to downright dubious. 

“Anthony Stark… what business has brought you to Wakanda, and in such an unhospitable fashion?”

Tony let out an aggrieved sigh.

“I know Steve Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes came to Wakanda.  What I don’t know is where they went from here.”

T’Challa’s eyes narrowed. 

“What further business could you possibly have with either?”

Tony rubbed at his eyes, feeling a headache brewing.

“Look.  I get that I played right into the hands of the villain, okay.  I know that.  But you were ready to kill Barnes to avenge your father’s death when you thought he was responsible.  Imagine what lengths you would have gone to had that been true.  Imagine what you would have done if he’d taken your mother from you, too.”

The king’s eyes, though sympathetic, remained wary.

“I’m not gunning for them anymore, I promise.  I’m not saying that I’ve just put it all behind me and everything is roses now, and that we’re going to be best buddies.  Because that’s not going to fucking happen, not without a miracle.  But some things are more important than personal grievances.”

The Wakandan lifted an eyebrow in question.

“Let’s just say that if I don’t manage to track down Rogers and Barnes, and the rest of the merry band of renegades, the Sokovia Accords won’t mean shit, because there won’t be any civilians left to protect or super heroes to protect them.”

 

Barnes woke up swinging, something feral in his eyes as they lit first on Tony.  However, with his signature vibranium arm missing since their shit show of a battle, there was no limb there for him to swing, and were he not so well trained in combat, he would have stumbled into the man that was the source of his panic.  As it was, he staggered for the briefest of seconds, righting himself scant inches from Tony.  As Tony remained still, the man’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Tony quickly held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“Let me put your mind at ease on a couple of different fronts, buddy.  I’m not here to apologize, and I’m not here to make friends.  But I’m not here to kick your ass or turn you in, either.”

Barnes’ features became more shuttered, suspicious as Tony put on a smile worthy of a snake oil salesman.  The other man waited, silent, for Tony to make his motives known. 

“I might not forgive you, I might not think you ought to be able to walk around scot free, with no checks and balances.  But just because I don’t agree with your actions, that doesn’t mean I get a free pass for my own.  I might not be sorry, I might not like you, but the world isn’t fair and it doesn’t really give a fuck what I think.”

Tony turned to include T’Challa, who had remained silent, in their thus far one sided conversation.

“The fact is, Barnes, the world is bigger than me, and ultimately, I don’t really matter.  I’m just one guy, a little smarter than average, sure, but just a guy flying around in a fancy suit.  I might be able to stop run of the mill bad guys, but hey, I’ve never really been in the same league as you and Rogers.”

He turned away to pace for a moment.

“Much as I’m loathe to admit it, I can’t handle everything on my own.  And at some point, whether my liver kicks the bucket or some villain with a bad cape and a silly name kicks it for me, I won’t be around to bat Doom-bots out of the sky like gnats.  And you know, ye ole’ thunder god is still on speaking terms with me, and he’s pretty sure we’re in for some tough shit, soon.  New York level tough shit, which I’d hoped I’d never have to experience anything like ever again.  I can’t go this one alone.  I need you to track down Cap for me, get him to bring in the whole gang, since the last person they’re going to be coming to for orders now is me.”

Finally, Barnes deigned to speak.

“What makes you think we’d need or want to join forces with you?”

“Well, for one thing, we have a hell of a lot of deets on this big bad that you guys aren’t privy to.  Not saying we won’t share them, but that brings me to the second thing: I may not be able to handle this on my own, and I may not like the odds if I just go it with the firepower I’ve got on my side, but we are packing a hell of a lot of it.”

The look Barnes turned on him was distinctly unimpressed.

“And if that’s not enough motivation for you, I can replace that arm: make it better, faster, stronger.”  Tony waggled his eyebrows.

Yeah, Barnes might not look impressed, but Tony could see a gleam of interest in his eyes at that last bit.  T’Challa turned a crafty smile on Tony, and maybe Tony was going to have to ply the king of Wakanda with some bribery as well, to get some of that vibranium on hand for his upcoming little projects.  But what the hell could Tony bribe a king with?


	6. All that Glitters is Gold

Loki braced himself with his magic as he entered the frozen realm of Niflheimr, an icy domain surrounding Hel, preventing the passage of any of the living so foolish as to seek entry.  Were he not both a frost giant and a sorcerer, likely even Loki would succumb to death in the permeating cold of the realm.  But, most importantly, for his current task Loki could ill afford for his true nature to be revealed; in this frigid waste, it was no small feat to prevent his flesh from reverting to its original form. 

The force of the eternal blizzard that blanketed Niflheimr made the search for his quarry painstaking, and the snow and ice that coated the ground made traversing the realm treacherous.  Fortunately, once more thanks to his magic, he was somewhat able to clear his line of sight and lessen the accumulation of snow in his path.  It did not greatly speed his progress, but then, Odin hadn’t exactly wanted Loki’s quarry to be discovered.  Loki could admit, he preferred his current environs to his trek to Muspelheimr; likely Odin had never imagined Loki would be the one to come looking for these particular outcasts, and thus had banished them both to this realm, instead of dooming them to the imprisonment Odr had faced.

After what seemed like ages of wading through the never changing, desolate and snow laden landscape, finally, blessedly, something caught Loki’s eye.  It was just a crevice, a crack, really, in the face of the cliff of one of the peaks he could make out in the distance.  Loki felt his lips pull into a self-satisfied smirk.         

He pulled on that welling core of magic ever present inside of him, body disappearing in one instant and reappearing where he desired to be in the next.  His eyes skimmed over the fault in the rocky surface of the cliff.  He caught the faint gleam of all too familiar magic; he knew the ins and outs of Odin’s spellcraft, but the strength of the old god’s magic was fierce, and Loki would have to tread cautiously as he worked to undo the spells that had been worked on the crag.

Loki’s magic slowly sifted through the intricate design of the spells Odin had cast, nimbly pulling it apart by the seams.  He toiled for some time, snarling in annoyance at the concentration required to tease apart another’s spellwork while upholding his own glamour.  His patience was wearing thin by the time he finally worked his way through to the last threads of Odin’s magic lingering stubbornly over the crag.  This bit, unlike the rest, was sheer power, pushing back at him intimidatingly instead of requiring a soft and steady hand.  Loki pushed back.  It was no mean feat, considering the strength of his foster father’s own sorcery, and the eons he had lived through to master it.  But Loki was stubborn, and his own magic was no mere pittance.  With a last great surge of power, he overcame the will of Odin’s magic, and sparks showered from the peak in front of him.

He cautiously reached out a hand to touch the fault in the stone, watching as the rock heated, then glowed beneath his palm.  That glow spread slowly to his hand, and carried on up his arm underneath the sleeve of his tunic, spreading throughout his body with a tingling hint of chill.  As suddenly as it was there, however, it was gone once more, and Loki shook off his disconcertion to focus on the task at hand.  Slowly, the rock beneath his palm shifted, the gap beneath the cliff growing steadily in size until even someone of Thor’s bulk could easily pass into the tunnel it revealed.  Loki found himself rolling his eyes.  Of course there would be a tunnel through the dark, damp interior of the mountain before he could reach his quarry.  He sighed in resignation, and set foot onto the path into the heart of the snowy peak.

He easily lit his way with a ball of flame that he summoned to the palm of one hand, though with his frost giant’s eyes, it was hardly necessary.  The path curved needlessly, frequently, and Loki resigned himself to the further loss of time that was growing infinitely more valuable the closer his children’s birth and Thanos’ invasion became.  Finally, after some time, he came to a halt where the tunnel split into several passageways.  He scanned each carefully with his seidr, and ultimately took the middle of the five passages.

Beneath his feet, the ground began to steadily rise, and after what seemed like ages, he finally came to the opening of a behemoth cavern.  As he approached, he picked up on the sound of voices, and quickly snuffed the flame in his hand, lest he prematurely announce his arrival.  Despite his precautions, however, the chamber beyond him soon grew quiet.  Finally, in resignation, he took the final steps forward into the cavern, entirely unsurprised when he was assailed from behind by one figure as another faced him, sword in hand.

Loki snickered quite unperturbedly. 

“Well, if it isn’t Odin’s bastard son and the Vanir king who would both bed and wed a monstrous Jotunn.”

The pair made groans of disgust as Bragi released his hold and shoved him violently away, while Freyr returned his sword to its sheath. 

“Lie-Smith, you’ve grown a sight since last I saw you.  You’re hardly the runt I caught swooning over my wife anymore, it would seem.”

“Yes, well, you’re ham-fisted and silver-tongued as ever, I see, Bragi.  However did you land yourself in such a predicament, again?”

Bragi snorted in dismissal, stalking away from Loki to the fire in the center of the cavern, seating himself in one of the well-worn armchairs beside of it and grabbing a tankard of ale.

Freyr stalked closer, his mouth pulled into a frown.

“What brings Odin’s youngest get here, of all the places in the Nine that he could haunt?”

Loki tutted. 

“My, what a frosty welcome my Aesir and Vanir brethren have given their prince.  Though, of course, now that I’ve been disinherited, I suppose that title is hardly of consequence.”  Loki examined his nails, feigning indifference to the interest that his disinheritance stirred in the other two.

“Since daddy dearest is already so aggrieved with me, what say I liberate you from this rather dreary home you’ve made for yourselves?”

Bragi turned his attention back to Loki, his gaze sharp, as Freyr’s became, if possible, more disdainful.

“What possible motivation could you have to incur Odin’s wrath upon yourself when it sounds as though he has already washed his hands of you?”

Loki pretended to ponder this for a moment.

“Hmm.  Considering he did have me imprisoned in Asgard’s dungeons until his most recent Odinsleep, yes, I suppose you could say so.  However, in his egotism, he nearly let Asgard fall to the dark elves, since your imprisonment here.  It was only by the virtue of myself and Thor that the Realm Eternal still stands.”

Loki took satisfaction in the discomfiture he could now see in their gazes.

“He has only just been woken from the Odinsleep that befell him at that time, and it was a premature awakening, at that.  He is still diminished of power, and his reason is not what it once was.  What should befall Asgard and the Nine Realms if he should falter, yet again, the next time we find ourselves under attack, hmm?”

The two gods exchanged wary glances.

“And why, precisely, should we trust your account of things any more than we trust in Odin’s, at present?”

Loki cracked a mischievous smile.

“Oh, I hardly want you to trust me at all.  I’m not a fool.  And I won’t begin to try to convince you that I am here for anything but selfish reasons.”

As Bragi growled, and for a god of poetry, it never failed to amuse Loki quite how savage he was, Loki made a gentle shushing sound.

“I benefit no more from the destruction of the Nine Realms than either of you.  But be that as it may, I am here to free you, Bragi, at your wife’s behest.  Now, now.  Before you find yourself jealous, it is not your beautiful lady that I am after, but her bountiful fruit.  Considering I am about to break you from a god-king’s ordained prison, I think you can do me the service of not asking whom I mean to gift it to.”

He smiled, saccharine sweetness, at the resignation that emanated from Bragi, then turned his attention to Freyr.

“As for you, I have already collected my favor from your dear sister, and for it, Asgard’s queen draws breath again.  I think we can all agree it a worthy task, as she is the only one who has achieved any degree of success in keeping her husband under rein.  Really, as I’ve already freed Odr, you’re more of an incidental boon, a goodwill gift, if you will.  It was quite fortunate you were caged with my other quarry.”

Freyr’s face had grown rife with fury while Loki spoke.

“Why would Odin have imprisoned Odr?  Odr keeps order in Vanaheimr, just as Odin does in Asgard, and assists Odin when need be with the rest of the Nine.”

“Ah, but you see, that is just the matter which would lead him to do so.  Your brother in law holds a power that is nearly on par with Odin’s, and his wife’s power is greater than even that of Frigga.  With you, in addition, on their side, what could Odin be but wary of the power that you represent?  In his old age, it would seem, the All-Father is becoming quite insecure in his own virility.”

Loki narrowed his eyes.

“If all of this is not enough reason for you to allow yourselves to be ‘liberated’ by the likes of me, then I offer one final bargaining piece: I am currently allied with the king of Jotunheimr.  If you still desire Gerth, I believe special inquiry from their kings will be enough to sway Gymir and Aurbotha to gift you her hand in marriage.”

The look that Freyr turned on him was distrusting, but both he and Bragi nodded ever so slightly in their assent.

“I trust you have deconstructed the magics Odin wrought on this mountain?”  Bragi arched a brow, as though unsure of both Loki’s intellect and his seidr.

In answer, Loki gripped both gods about their forearms, and in a swirl of seidr, they were hurtling through the branches of Yggdrasil, rapidly approaching Folkvangr.  When it was within reach, Loki gave a shove and released Freyr, sending him hurtling into his sister’s realm, and with a wrench, sent himself and Bragi along the great tree’s limbs leading toward Alfheimr and Bragi’s fair bride.

 

With his other parcel delivered without so much as a by your leave, which as far as he was concerned was the least that Bragi deserved after Loki had been benevolent enough to free him from his prison after his past tormenting, Loki set to exploring the wilds of Alfheimr.  He had come to the realm often enough in his travels, but he did not expect that to make ease of his current mission.  Idunn was as canny as she was fair, which was to say, very.  The goddess also possessed a sense of duty to her task that, while Loki couldn’t fault her for, he was likewise unable to understand given whom her orders came from.

Though, he supposed, many others besides the All-Father depended on her guarding her charges with the utmost caution.  Loki could only hope that the wiles of a frost giant and the magics of a sorcerer would be enough for him to match wits with the likes of an elf.

Loki traveled through the enchanted forests of the realm for hours with nary a sign of the object of his quest.  His seidr tingled with the constant ebb and flow of magic around him.  After an indeterminate amount of time, he began to register flashes of movement just out of the corner of his eye.  Whenever he turned to look, there was never anything there, and his magic could pick out no source of alarm from the copious amounts of seidr imbued in his surroundings.  The farther he walked, the darker the forest grew around him; he knew not if it was from nightfall drawing near, or the denseness of the canopy above him. 

He began to hear whispers of movement, the barest trace of voices as he continued in the nearly complete darkness around him.  Even to his Jotunn eyes, there was hardly enough lingering light for him to see to make his way by.  It was not enough light, however, to disguise the strangely glowing specters that became more readily visible the farther into the forest he traveled.  In the deafening silence of this magical wood, the whispering that tickled at his senses grew more distinct, and Loki cursed himself for the hint of unease that was growing within him.

Finally, the forms of the specters and shadows that followed him grew defined enough for Loki to recognize them, their voices gaining enough clarity for him to understand their words.  The first to appear before him, reaching out to caress his cheek with a hand as wispy and fine as a cloud, but tangible all the same, was Sigyn, the woman to which Odin had long sought to betroth him.  Her white-blonde hair and grey-blue eyes the color of the sky during a winter storm were still as frostily and pristinely beautiful as he remembered.

“Darling Loki, whatever are you searching for?  Surely there is nothing which you seek that could be of more value to you than the loving woman you see before you?”  Her lips were feather soft as they pressed to his cheek. 

Unnerving as this specter was, the one to appear at his side next was even more so.  Angrboda towered above him, her skin the darkest blue that Loki had ever seen, her hair whiter than snow, and eyes a vibrant hue of rose.  He had heard tell that she was to be the wife of the next king of Jotunheim.  He had always imagined she would wed Byleistr or Helblindi, would even have rather her wed his sire, Farbauti, instead.  But by acknowledging him, Farbauti could have made wedding her Loki’s own fate.

She draped herself along his side, her form shifting to make her of an equal height to him.  He would expect no less from the woman the Jotnar had chosen to be the mother of their next generation of kings; the woman who, along with Sigyn, was rumored to have mothered his progeny in the facsimile of the Norns predictions passed down among the Midgardians.

“Loki-King, why have you let yourself be led astray from your rightful place?  You are meant to rule with me at your side, where power and greatness will be yours for the taking.”

Loki found himself increasing his pace, not outright running, but moving with more haste than was becoming of one both a god and a prince.  He had no wish to dwell here any longer than he must, had no desire to see what apparition would appear before him next.  But the figures followed, close behind him, taunting him with promises of power, of greatness, of the destiny that would be his if he would but return to their sides.

In the mist ahead of him, yet another figure manifested.  Loki was at first at a loss as the great beast shook its mane, pawing the ground before it as it approached to circle Loki in a manner that was distinctly predatory.  As the glow of transformation surrounded the gargantuan equine, Loki found himself understanding at last.  The Jotnar who had built the walls of Asgard, a shape shifter as surely as Loki himself and Angrboda behind him were.  Svadilfari stood before him in his human form, the form in which Loki had let him enter his bed, the first man with whom Loki had slaked his lusts.  The man with which Loki was also foretold to bear a child. 

He was just as beautiful as Loki remembered, silken silver hair falling in waves about his face, curling all the way down to his shoulders.  His eyes were a warm amber, lips plush and full, designed to tempt Loki’s patience, he had always told the giant.  Svadilfari leaned forward, hands carding through Loki’s hair as he whispered in his ear.

“Why have you taken another man to your bed, Loki, when you know I am yours to do with as you please.”  The Jotunn pressed a trail of kisses from the shell of Loki’s ear to the corner of his mouth.  “You have but to ask, my prince.”

Loki carefully brushed the giant’s ministrations aside, stepping around him to carry on his search for his prize.  He continued for some time in relative peace, these ghouls of persons whom he’d met in the flesh merely murmuring and trailing in his wake.  Finally, the forest around him came to such a depth of darkness that Loki was compelled to use his seidr or lose his way.  When the flame of his magic came to life at his fingertips, he nearly fell back in surprise.

Before him, Stark looked much as Loki imagined he would, in his heart of hearts, had it not been for his pregnancy and Thanos’ ever looming influence.  He was hale and hearty, the signs of age that had been there when Loki first began consorting with the man erased.  His eyes glowed ethereal blue, hair a silken black that was shades lighter than Loki’s own and with no hint of grey, and his skin fairly flushed with color and health.  Youth had afforded him a slenderness he’d lacked as an older man, but he was by no means as lean of frame as Loki, and filled out and muscled in a way the recent months of illness had not afforded the real Stark.  From his chest, the arc reactor glowed a pure, shimmering blue, no hint of foreign or malicious magic in its depths. 

Stark approached him slowly, a cocky smile on his face that hit Loki with a pang of longing, for he could not remember the last time it had graced Anthony’s true face, the last time that face had not been drawn in lines of worry and strain.

“Lokey-Dokey, why did you leave me all by my lonesome?  If you didn’t want the kids and the white picket fence, you could have just said so.  Thanos would have been happy enough to take them off our hands.”

Stark’s grin turned crooked and shark-like.

“Aren’t you afraid he might come calling while you’re out traipsing after other women and their husbands?”

Loki felt the pang of unease he’d been fighting since these specters had first appeared before him growing, turning into a gaping chasm in the pit of his chest.  His instinct was to flee this realm, return to Stark’s side.  But he could not give in.  He could not let himself be deterred by what the magic of Idunn’s forest had dreamed up to torment him with.

He carried onward, brushing past his lover, who joined the growing throng trailing in Loki’s wake. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Lokes.”  Malevolent laughter followed, sounding twisted and wrong in his lover’s voice.

Loki could tell the size of the trees he passed was growing incrementally, those at his starting point quite large, but the ones towering above him now absolutely behemoth.  He found himself convinced, after this latest, more overt ploy to distract him and lead him astray, that the item which he sought must be growing near.

Finally, in the distance, he could see a great tree which dwarfed all its surroundings, no matter how mighty and tall the rest of the cursed forest stood.  Loki felt a chill run down his spine, his hair standing on end in a primordial reaction.  Something was coming, and it would be far harder to dissuade than that which had come before it.

As he watched, a hulking figure began to condense from the ether of the forest and its seidr.  As it grew, both in size and in clarity, Loki knew true fear as he had only known it once before: at the hands of the Mad Titan.  He knew this mirage made of magic was not Thanos’ true self, but after his time spent at the tyrant’s hands, the reaction was instinctual and unavoidable. 

Finally, the figure stood fully formed before him.

“Loki Lost-One, did you truly think you could escape me after you failed me so abominably?  Or have you merely run away from your consort, hoping that he and your bastard whelps will be enough to sate my wrath for now?”

Loki reached out with his magic, seeking, testing that which lay between him and his goal.  The resistance he met made him hiss in frustration, both at his weakness in the face of his most hated enemy and at the power that surged up against him in retaliation.  Making it to the other side of this phantom and reaching his prize would doubtlessly not be a painless experience for him.  He prepared his seidr for the battle that was coming.

“You are no Thanos.  You seem to forget that I have met the real creature, and trembled at his feet in the face of his fury.  I will not stand scared of you, who are merely a semblance of the true monster with neither form or substance of your own.”

The voice cackled menacingly, booming through the quiet of the forest.

“Whether or not I am the Mad Titan in the flesh, you know well enough already that what you fear will come to pass.  I will reach Midgard, and when I do, your mortal and your children will be mine.  I will take great pride as I watch the man who has claimed your fickle heart tears you apart with the very power that you bestowed upon him, however unwittingly it may have been initially.”

The figure leaned down its mighty head, so it could meet him eye to gargantuan eye.

“Go ahead, Loki Lost-One.  Procure that which it is you seek.  Bestow it upon your mortal.  When you do, you will have given me a god and a sorcerer with which to conquer your world, and any others I seek.  Go ahead and bestow that gift, that your children may be immortal also, and become my favored tools with which to conquer and subjugate every world in my path.”

Loki blanched, having known that this was the one great flaw in his plan from the beginning.  For all the protections he may attempt to provide to Anthony, for all of the advantages he may bestow upon him in an effort to defend him against Thanos, unless he found some way to shield the mortal’s mind, some way to rid him of Thanos’ magic, he would only be bestowing the titan with the means to defeat them.  He may have dedicated himself to his present task, but he had yet to grapple with the guilt, the hopelessness of his mission. 

He stepped forward, projecting both a calm and a confidence he did not feel.

“We will defeat you.  I will never let you take Anthony, or our children.  For that matter, Anthony will never let himself be taken, or a hand to be laid upon our babes.  Do your worst, for I will not be dissuaded, monster.”

That cruel cackling started up again, and the other specters whom had followed Loki gathered to Thanos’ side.  Anthony’s menacing eyes were the most difficult for him to face.  Then, they answered him in unison with one voice.

“You will fail in this as you have failed in everything, Loki Lost-One.”

With that parting shot, the figures before him began to glow, lashing out at him with a power that, even with his magic aided exploration of his surrounds, shocked him.  He braced himself as quickly as he was able, grunting inarticulately with the effort of restraining the force of seidr that was thrown at him.  With a roar, he poured his own power into the maelstrom, as much as he could, more than he’d ever dared before, and hurled it away from him with all his might.

When it contacted the wraiths that had haunted him, a riot of sparks spilled over the forest, and over Loki himself, an eerie wailing sort of screech echoing around him for what seemed like eons.  As the noise and the mist around him dissipated, Loki found himself at a loss for words.  Ahead of him, the looming tree he had noted earlier shone in the riot of light that now reached through the forest canopy, as did the gleaming golden apples that filled its boughs.  He walked, wonderingly, to the base of the tree, climbing carefully over its giant roots.  As he reached its trunk, he raised himself up, beginning to adeptly scale its branches. 

It seemed he climbed for ages, before finally he reached the highest of the tree’s branches which grew at an angle on which he could stand.  Once there, he stood in awe of the space before him.  For, once he had paused to register his surroundings, before him was a space large enough for several gods to gather, even sleep if they so desired.  It was decorated with all manner of beautiful trinkets, skillfully hewn from the nature surrounding him.  At the center of this canopied dais was a wooden round table covered in flowering vines in a riot of colors.  Upon it sat Idunn’s treasured eski of ash wood. 

Loki approached with all due caution, and no little bit of apprehension, despite his fascination.  He slowly reached out his fingers to trail across the seamless and nearly indiscernible latch of the box.  With a tiny swirl of magic, it popped open at his touch, revealing a bounty of golden apples at the height of ripeness, unlike the immature apples that weighted down the limbs of the tree around him. 

“You have proven worthy, young Lie-Smith,” a tinkling voice whispered, a hint of mirth in the words.  “But remember this: the magic of this forest can wreak strange changes on those who stray into its depths for too long.”

Loki nodded his thanks, palming the loveliest of the apples in Idunn’s eski, and quickly teleported away from the realm, lest he should have to encounter Bragi once more, and lest he give himself time to think on Idunn’s parting warning.


	7. An Apple a Day (Keeps the Doctor Away?)

When Loki made his return to Stark’s mansion on Midgard, he went directly to the mortal’s rooms.  Once there, he found the man unsurprisingly fast asleep.  Loki watched him, his features pulling into lines of fondness, unwilling yet to wake him.  Finally, though, he approached the bed, removing his more restrictive armor and leaving himself in his tunic and leggings.  He carefully slipped underneath the coverlet, unsure of what his welcome would be after his weeks of absence.  Once he was certain that Anthony would not stir, he slipped closer, gently wrapping an arm about the mortal’s waist, finding himself surprised and a little bit in awe of the fullness that met his hand.  He stilled, his fingers splayed lightly over Stark’s abdomen, fascinated and more than a bit charmed by the sudden flurry of movement that met his hand.

“They recognize you, or your magic, anyway.”

At the quiet rasp of Stark’s voice, Loki jumped in surprise before he could cover the reaction.  He grew completely still, awaiting the inevitable fallout and Stark’s wrath, but as the seconds passed, he came to realize that neither was going to come.

“Yeah, I’m a bit surprised myself, considering how little time you’ve been around while they’ve been cooking in there.”  The mortal huffed out a laugh, but it merely sounded tired, not baiting.

Loki subconsciously found his fingers stroking lightly over the taut skin of the other man’s belly as he fought to find words which could ease the present tension between them.  He was shocked when Stark abruptly turned in his arms, the mortal’s lips suddenly pressed harshly against his own.  He clutched fiercely at the fabric of the back of Stark’s shirt, pulling him as flush against his body as the now obviously pregnant curve of his belly would allow.  He returned Stark’s kisses with equal fervor, uncertainty and fear fueling the heat growing between them.

Loki broke away from their kiss briefly, unwilling to become further carried away with things as they currently stood between them.

“Stark, are you certain that this is what you desire?  Even after the manner with which we parted last?”

Anthony grabbed his face roughly between his hands, his eyes piercing when they met Loki’s own.

“Shut up and fuck me, Loki.”

Loki growled as Stark bit down harshly, punishingly on his lower lip, and met the other man’s ferocity with his own.  He gripped the collar of Stark’s shirt, ripping it down the middle to lay his torso bare.  He pulled away from Stark’s punishing kisses to gaze upon the flesh he had revealed, and while he had already felt the gravid curve of the man’s belly, finally seeing the evidence of the life they had somehow kindled betwixt the two of them so undeniably displayed brought out something primal in Loki.  He needed to reaffirm his tie to this mortal, this man so undeniably more fragile than himself, yet so full of fire and temper and vitality; he needed to reaffirm his tie to the unborn babes, shifting restlessly beneath the taut flesh of the Midgardian’s belly, who could so easily have been born to another so much less worthy of Loki’s affections than Stark. 

Loki felt a growl rumble from low in his throat as he raised his eyes to Stark’s again.  In curious juxtaposition to the harsh sound, he found himself pressing soft, gentle kisses across the full curve of the other man’s belly, fingertips stroking soothing patterns across whatever flesh his lips left untended.  He abruptly felt Stark tug at his hair, but with a tenderness that belied his earlier impatience.  When he raised up to meet the other man’s eyes, they were liquid blue as they swam with wetness. 

“Shut.  Up.  It’s the fucking hormones,” Stark answered his concern before he could voice it.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the sort to use such excuses, Anthony.”

The other man’s expression went satisfyingly cross at that.

“Yeah, well, me fucking too.  Until I was actually pregnant, and realized just how disgustingly accurate that particular stereotype really is.”  Stark shoved him, though the gesture verged on playful.  “If you’re not satisfied that I’m being truthful, I can always knock you up and let you see for yourself.”

Loki tutted.  “You’ve not even yet birthed my first offspring, and yet you already wish for more from me.  You had merely to ask me, Anthony, if you were so desperate to bear my children.”

This time, the mortal groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

“Do not even joke about this Loki.  So not fucking funny.”

Loki cackled in delight, then devilishly grazed his fingernails across the slightly reddened flesh of Stark’s nipples, smirking as they grew pert and pebbled.  The gasp the attention wrenched from the mortal was satisfying, and the degree of sensitivity new.  What an unanticipated boon of Stark’s pregnancy.  Loki wondered in what other new ways the man would respond to his ministrations.  Curious, he snaked a hand between Stark’s thighs, gently pressing his palm up to the heat of his mons as Anthony squirmed and parted his legs in subconscious invitation. 

Loki kept up the firm press of his hand against Stark’s heated flesh, nearly purring in satisfaction as the man began to cant his hips, searching for friction.

“Loki, fuck.  Don’t tease me.”  The mortal’s voice was nearly a whine, and that was truly interesting, indeed.

It seemed Loki had left his consort alone and wanting for far too long.  It would appear that, once the worst of his illness had passed, Stark’s pregnancy had taken a much more normal course, with far more predictable needs.  He smirked, only too glad to satiate the man.  At least, after a bit more time spent working him into a frenzy.  The Midgardian was far too enjoyable to tease.

Loki slowly needed his palm across the soft mound of flesh behind Stark’s balls that magic had provided once his pregnancy began to progress, satisfied at the wealth of dampness he already felt.  But he had other plans for his first time bedding his mortal in what already seemed like ages.  What could be his last chance to bed his lover for quite some time to come, if not truly the last time ever.  Loki refused to focus any more of his thoughts in that direction, not while he was attending to the man who had stolen his affections, the man who was bearing his firstborn son and daughter.

Loki leaned down to press his lips gently to Stark’s, the kiss still heated, but much more tender than those they had exchanged earlier.  He gently maneuvered them so that Stark was on his back, a pillow beneath him to cushion him, with Loki looming over top of him, the very picture of the cat who got the cream.  He quickly vanished the rest of Stark’s clothing and spread the man’s legs open before him, ignoring his flushed and swollen cock to press a wet kiss to the slit behind his balls. 

The high pitch of the keen that emitted from Stark was unlike any he’d dragged from the man before, and he was truly amazed at the wetness he found as he continued his careful exploration of the mortal’s flesh.  Hormones, indeed.  He continued to lap and lave at the man’s juices, teasingly darting his tongue into his entrance, gaze fixed on Anthony’s face as his eyes squeezed closed and he thrashed and squirmed under Loki’s attention.  The bountiful curve of the man’s belly heaved as he panted for breath, and though Loki had never anticipated that he would feel drawn to such a thing, he found the sight alluring beyond words. 

Without any hint or warning, Loki quickly slid the glamour from his flesh, vanishing his clothes in the same breath, and found himself already smirking in anticipation of his lover’s response to the abrupt temperature change.  Stark gasped, his limbs going taut as his eyes slid open to glance down at Loki in something akin to both dismay and delight.  Loki chuckled against the object of his attentions, pleased by the way it made the other man shiver, and as the mortal’s eyes slid closed once more, his teeth beginning to worry at his lower lip, Loki snaked a hand between his own legs.

As he was yet unused to this form, and even more unused to the gesture, it took some time to get the angle correct as he swirled his fingers across the moist heat of his own quim.  When he breached himself with two fingers, he couldn’t contain the small gasp of satisfaction that left his mouth, still pressed attentively to Anthony’s flesh.  His eyes went hooded, and when he returned his gaze to Stark, the other man stared hungrily at the picture that Loki must present, on hands and knees with his face buried between the man’s thighs, his hips canted high in the air as he fucked himself languidly on his own fingers.

Stark’s expression was absolutely ravenous, his fingers curling through Loki’s hair, unsure whether he wanted to pull Loki to him or press Loki’s face more firmly into the delicate flesh his nimble tongue was supplicating.  Loki found his own patience wearing thin and made one last languid pass of Stark’s cunt with his tongue before pulling away, likewise bringing his fingers away from his own flesh.  He had something more satisfying in mind for them both.  He casually brought his fingers, coated in his own slick, up to his mouth to lave them clean.  He paused in the midst of the act at the hungry expression on Stark’s face, then climbed over his legs and circled his fingers teasingly over the man’s lips.  He extended his tongue, lapping at Loki’s fingers until Loki gave in and let him suck.  And oh, he knew he loved the mortal’s filthy mouth, but at this moment he felt he may indeed come to love the man himself for said mouth. 

Loki tugged his lower lip between his teeth playfully, batting his eyes as he pulled his fingers from Stark’s mouth and shifted to balance himself, then began to grind the pulsing heat of his slit across the man’s weeping cock.  Stark let out a low moan, fingers automatically coming up to cling at Loki’s hips, and when he wrenched his eyes back open, the look he directed at Loki was clear.

‘Are you fucking crazy?’

But Loki wasn’t much inclined to care what Stark thought at the moment.  It had been ages since he had last felt the glorious length and girth of the mortal’s cock spearing him open.  Stark himself could certainly use the reminder that he indeed had retained the use of said member.  Loki had a feeling that with the new and hungry maw between his thighs, and the very obvious reminder of his other new accoutrements in the form of his ever growing belly, had left the poor soul feeling decidedly unmanned.  And really, Loki just couldn’t tolerate that.  He would be a horrid spouse indeed if he left his lover in doubt of his own virility.

Besides, Loki had magic on his side, and where physics may dictate that one err on the side of caution… well, all bets were hedged when one could alter those physics to suit one’s whims.  And what whims did Loki have for the poor mortal now trapped between his thighs.

Loki smirked at Stark, an eyebrow lifted in challenge, and felt a thrill of mischief at the look of dismay he received in return.  Then Loki was sinking slowly, gratifyingly down the curve of the man’s thick cock, his quim rippling pleasantly at being so thoroughly and gloriously filled.  Stark let out a strangled groan, his fingers pressing crescent indents into the flesh of Loki’s hips. 

“Aren’t you forgetting that we weren’t supposed to be putting you on the receiving end?”

Loki harrumphed. 

“Yes, well, that hardly seems relevant now that you’re already nearly done gestating the offspring we were afraid of conceiving before Thanos came to Midgard.”

The mortal’s jaw was tensed with strain, and Loki was pleased at how difficult the man was finding it to argue his point under the present circumstances.

“Yeah, well, that still doesn’t mean that something like this couldn’t happen again.”

Loki had humored the man, holding still under the pretense of giving himself time to adjust to the intrusion, but Loki was not known for his patience.  He rolled his eyes and gave a gusty sigh, then began to grind his hips along Stark’s length with a purpose.

“You know precisely how to get a man in the mood, Stark.  You’re forgetting we both have seidr, and without Thanos interfering to be certain that we conceive what are apparently two of his favorite pawns, I can hardly see what you’re so worked up over.”

Loki tightened his inner muscles around Anthony’s length pointedly, and purred in satisfaction as the man’s hips stuttered and he let out a hitched moan. 

“Fuck it.  You’re probably right.  Forget I ever tried to have this discussion with you.”

Loki, satisfied that he had won the argument, began to lean down to press a heated kiss to the mortal’s lips.  Before he could, however, that man’s dratted mouth (and how Loki had ever imagined he could love that part of Stark in particular, of all the mortal’s traits, he was hard pressed to remember) began blathering once more.

“Unless, you know, you’re wrong and you end up boned.  Literally and figuratively.  Because if that happens, totally remember I told you so.”

Loki growled with menace, and the man beneath him had the gall to snicker at him.  He was about a second away from giving up on his current activities, as it seemed clear to him that they were hardly making progress, when Stark lunged the scant few inches forward to reach Loki’s mouth and pressed a scalding kiss to it.  Loki moaned in satisfaction, pressing his for entrance against the mortal’s lips until they parted and he could twine their tongues together. 

The pace with which Loki had started was languid and meant for show, with an added twist at the end of each thrust down to sheath Stark’s cock that left the man moaning.  Needless to say, it was a pace that Loki was rapidly becoming unable to sustain, his hips starting to rock against Stark’s with purpose.  He was dripping wet, completely unashamed by the slick sound of him fucking himself on the mortal’s length.  His cunt grasped hungrily for purchase with each smooth slide of that silken flesh inside of him.  Loki growled with need and frustration against Stark’s lips, losing his rhythm in his impatience, hips jerking in the Midgardian’s hands.

He found himself surprised and quite thrilled when Stark’s grip tightened, became demanding, and those hands began to help support him in his pursuit of his pleasure, to guide him into a harder, more punishing pace.  Loki keened his approval, reaching behind himself to grab Stark’s knees for support, delighting in the surprising strength the mortal had retained and reveling in fucking himself on the man’s cock. 

Loki could feel the tension building in Stark’s limbs, could tell he was close to spending by the slight tremor of his arms around Loki’s waist.  The curl of want within Loki had climbed ever higher since the mortal took control of their coupling, but he could tell the man was tiring, too much of his energy devoted to the offspring he carried.  Loki curled his fingers through Stark’s, gently prying his hands from Loki’s hips, and pinned them above the man’s head.  He smirked down at his lover, huffing a breathless laugh, utterly endeared by how wrecked the man looked. 

And then, he braced himself, careful of the tender curve of flesh between himself and Stark, rolling his hips back and forth across Stark’s length at a furious pace.  Helplessly, the mortal’s hips arched up to meet him as his eyes clenched shut, his lips parted on a constant stream of whispered curses.

Loki wickedly leaned down to tease his teeth across a pert nipple, giving it a hard suck, delighted when Stark cried out with abandon and Loki could feel the warm ropes of his come spilling inside of him.  He continued to fuck himself furiously on Stark’s length until the mortal was wincing with oversensitivity.  He wrenched himself off his cock with regret, falling desperately to the bed at Stark’s side, an arm reaching wildly for his cock, his slit, anything to just finally…

As Stark’s fingers breached him once more, carefully searching to press against that bundle of nerves that was present even in his Jotunn form, Loki’s fingers brushed against the head of his weeping dick and the cold of his frost giant’s semen abruptly coated his abdomen, his muscles clenching and releasing in waves as he shivered in both pleasure and relief.  As he panted for breath, he opened eyes he did not remember clenching shut, meeting Stark’s self-satisfied and smirking face that loomed above his own. 

He narrowed his eyes, feigning crossness at the man’s smugness.  Noticing a slight shiver run across Anthony’s form, however, he felt a tug of concern and made short work of returning the glamour to his form.  As he did, he saw Stark’s eyes widen, and lifted a questioning brow.

“Lokes, what exactly have you gotten up to while you were away?  Here I figured you were off preparing for doomsday, and you come back home with new tats.”

Loki frowned in confusion, then turned his eyes to where Stark’s own gaze was busy exploring his Aesir skin.  He sat up abruptly in alarm, extending his arms to more closely inspect them, only to notice further ink swirling about his legs.  He felt himself come concerningly close to gaping in a very fish like manner. 

Stark made a noise of disbelief.

“You really hadn’t noticed you were suddenly sporting ink around the entire length of each of your limbs?  I feel like that’s something you should distinctly remember happening.”

Loki frowned, carefully studying the patterns that adorned him.  A hellhound curled about the length of his left arm, its head resting on his shoulder while its tail brushed the flesh of his wrist.  On his right arm, the figure of a horse wound similarly, save for the fact that its body flowed in the opposite direction.  As he looked to his right leg, he found that it was decorated by the figure of a menacing wolf, traveling across his flesh in the same downward direction as the beast on his corresponding arm.  On his left leg, a serpent twisted and writhed, its twining as it climbed his body so that its head rested just at his hip.

Loki remembered the ominous flow of magic when he had released Odin’s spells in Niflheim’s curious waste.  He remembered the explosion of riotous magic when he dispelled the illusions Idunn had put in his path in her forest.  He remembered her curious parting warning, and he cursed.  He was, of course, familiar enough with Nordic legends to know well which beasts now adorned him.

Stark quirked an eyebrow.

“Rough night of drinking you’d forgotten about until now?  Or is this some kind of frost giant hoodoo?”

Loki pursed his lips in distaste.

“This has nothing to do with my being a frost giant.  I’m afraid I encountered some foreign magics very recently, and having securely overcome them, had given them no further thought.  I’d not undressed myself since said encounters, and when I was in my Jotunn form the ink was far less noticeable for the darkness of my skin and the runes already present on it.”

Tony scoffed.

“What the fuck does anybody get out of giving you some fancy new skin art?”

Loki shrugged exaggeratedly, in a manner very unlike himself.

“I find it no less preposterous than you, however, I am concerned by the fact that I now wear the figures of the mythical beasts I am supposedly to father.”  Loki gave a shudder.  “I believe myself quite content with the idea of neither siring nor bearing any further children.  Two seem to be more than enough for persons such as ourselves to attempt the rearing of.  I wish the dratted Norns would keep their noses out of my affairs and quit pestering for more.”

Tony gave a theatric shudder.

“You know, I think we’re pretty much on the same page for once.  Being pregnant just the once is more than enough of the experience for me.”  He gave Loki a shove.  “Whore.”  He spluttered at the offense clear on Loki’s face.

“I believe you are the one with the more notorious track record, Stark, betwixt the two of us.  Which does not cease to amaze me, considering the difference in our life spans.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“You knew what you were in for when you decided to tango with me, princess.”

Loki smirked in response but his mind was elsewhere, since his mention of their respective lifespans.  He quickly sat up and began searching for a bathrobe with which to make a trip to the mansion’s kitchen.  When Stark made another noise of distress, Loki found he truly did not want to know the cause this time, but turned around expectantly anyway.

“Uh, Loki.  I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there’s some nice new ink on your back, too.” 

Without bothering to go into the bathroom and crane his neck to look in the mirror, Loki sighed in resignation.

“What does it look like?”

Tony pondered for a moment.

“Two wolves circling about each other; one looks like it’s chasing the sun, and the other is chasing the moon.”

Loki cursed, colorfully. 

This time, it was Tony who arched a questioning eyebrow.

“Care to share?  I’m pretty sure I know the story with the other four beasts you’re wearing now, but I’m not familiar with this one.”

“The only myth I know of that involves wolves or hounds chasing celestial bodies is that of Skoll and Hati.  They are supposed to be Fenrir’s spawn, not my own, and meant devour the sun and moon when Ragnarok occurs.”

Tony flopped, boneless, back onto the bed.

“Cool.  So, world ending children to add to the already dire and dour brood.  Nice.”

Loki grunted ineloquently in concurrence. 

“I find I do not care to think on the matter further at the present.  We’ve more than enough material to induce panic already, without adding further to our current woes.”  Loki finally found that robe he had initially wanted to procure and flung it on.  “I’ll go get us something to eat; you look as though you’ve lost a bit more of your own weight, despite the fact that it looks as though our offspring are yet hale and hearty.”

Tony snorted.

“I like how you’re insinuating that I look both unhealthy and fat.  Real nice, Loki.  You sure know how to make a girl feel good about herself.”

Loki rolled his eyes.

“You know I intended no such thing, Stark.  Appreciate my fretting over you while it lasts, for it will be over with soon enough.”

Anthony pouted in a decidedly childish manner, and Loki hid a smile, turning away to finally go about the task that he had come here for: assuring Stark’s survival, whatever else may befall them.

 

Loki padded through the kitchen, searching for a blender.  He pulled the golden apple from the pocket of magic he had concealed it in, quickly glamouring it to appear like a honey crisp.  Once finished, he placed the entirety of it into the blender, adding almond milk, almond butter, and a few other healthy elements to create something that resembled both a milkshake and a smoothie.  Once he was done, he carefully used his seidr to remove every last drop from the blender, pouring it into a glass. 

He examined it carefully, satisfied that it looked no different from an ordinary beverage, then quickly spelled the cup so that no drop would remain once Anthony drank it.  He smiled, pleased, then returned to their rooms.

 

Tony threw Loki a dubious look when he returned, a bowl of fruit and a milkshake in hand.  The god peered at him sternly in warning, obviously not about to brook any argument from his charge.  He sat carefully at Tony’s side, placing the tray on the bedside table and handing him the ever so inviting beverage he had made.

Tony still couldn’t help but to smirk a bit, but quickly grabbed the milkshake from Loki.

“You know, I’d have hardly thought you’d be bringing me a milkshake of all things, especially considering the fruit bowl that was your other peace offering.”

The god rolled his eyes, obviously not impressed.

“It’s made with almond milk and almond butter.  It should have plenty of vitamins and minerals, as well as protein, and be especially healthy with the fruit.”

At that, Tony gave the drink a dubious look, but then shrugged.  What the heck.  The guy had gone to the effort to make him something, the least Tony could do was shut his gab and drink it, even if he did suspect it would be less than palatable.  Tony gave the beverage a careful sip and found his eyes widening in surprise.

“Surely, Stark, you must be aware that just because something is healthy that does not automatically make it distasteful?”

Tony shrugged, not bothering to respond, and continued to drink the concoction, which was quite surprisingly good.  As he started to set it aside, he noticed Loki still watching him carefully, as though he were truly concerned that Tony was not getting adequate sustenance.  Tony sighed and resumed drinking, convinced that Loki would not be satisfied until he had polished off the whole thing.  Once he was finished, he decided he did feel decidedly better than he had previously, and yeah, maybe he should be a bit better about remembering to eat more regularly until the brats were born. 

He felt himself growing decidedly sleepy, and when he met Loki’s eyes, they were filled with uncharacteristic gentleness.  He ran eloquent fingers through Tony’s hair, helped him to lie down, and kissed his forehead as Tony drifted off to sleep.

 

Loki could feel his heart pounding in anticipation as Anthony began to drink the golden apple mixture that Loki had so carefully disguised.  When he saw that the man intended to finish it, no doubt egged on by Loki’s watchful anticipation, he felt a gentle flood of relief building in himself.

When he went to tuck the now dozing man into his bed, the last glimpse he had of Stark’s eyes sent a surge of triumph through him.  For within the glowing blue that his magic had stained his irises, there were flecks of gold.  And forming about the edge of those irises were bands of the same color. 

Loki had succeeded.  Anthony Stark was immortal.  Anthony Stark was a god. 

For all the elation Loki felt, he felt foreboding in near equal measure.  He did his best to ignore it.


	8. Meet the Fockers... er, Parents?

As Loki left Stark’s rooms, he ran into his mother.  He found himself both surprised and concerned by the worry writ across her face.  She pursed her lips, sparing no time to greet him, and motioned for him to follow her.  They came to a stop in the library, where Farbauti awaited them.

“Mother, Farbauti, what is this about?  Is it Anthony?  He seems to be in better health than when last I saw him.”

Frigga gave a quick shake of her head.

“Loki, Thanos plans to make his move.  Heimdall saw him preparing to invade Asgard.  He said that he had already conquered a world called Xandar.”

Loki felt himself pale.

“Bruce and Thor have returned to Asgard.  They mean to protect the realm, with help from Odin, Heimdall, the Warriors Three, and Lady Sif.  Farbauti and I must stay here with Anthony, Loki, for it is not long now until I suspect your children will be born.  He is already 32 weeks into his pregnancy.  I would be amazed if he sustains it for more than another month.”

Farbauti stepped forward, face equally grim.

“I have sent for your brothers.  They and a legion of our warriors are to follow you to Asgard to aid you in its defense.”

At Loki’s look of consternation, Farbauti continued.

“If Asgard should fall, Jotunnheimr will be doomed to the same fate.”

Loki nodded curtly, still ill at ease with this plan, wherein Jotunn and Aesir would be forced to work side by side.

“I must have a moment to tell Stark.  He will need to hear it from me, before I am to disappear from him again, especially under the present circumstances.”

Both of his parents looked upon him in understanding, fear for his safety writ clear across their faces, and Loki felt a pang of fondness for them.  He quickly made his goodbyes, not allowing himself to entertain the idea that this would be their last parting, then turned to take his leave of Stark.

 

Loki entered the chambers he shared with Stark while he was on Midgard, approaching his bed and carefully shaking him awake.  When the man opened his eyes, they were clearly rimmed in gold, further gold flickering in the depths of the ethereal blue of his irises.  Loki let himself feel a glimmer of hope at the clear sign of Stark’s strength, his vitality. 

The man shifted, smiling up at him in an unguarded manner which Loki had rarely seen from him, if ever.  He leaned down, unable to resist placing a lingering kiss on the man’s lips.  When he pulled away, Anthony’s eyes were serious, clearly having picked up on Loki’s unease.  Loki wondered when he had become so easy to read, or if that were not the case, when Stark had grown so adept at reading him specifically.

“Rudolph, what’s wrong?  You look like you just found out somebody ran over your favorite pet cat.”

“Stark, I truly do not wish to leave your side again, especially with you in your current condition…”

Before Loki could finish, the man interrupted him.

“No, Loki.  Absolutely not.  You did not come in here to tell me that you’re taking off for gods know where, yet again, when you just got back.  Not when it’s so close to… You know what, never mind.  Of course you are.  Because that’s what you always do.”

Stark had gotten up and taken to pacing, his hands running through his hair.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Loki.”

Loki carefully wrapped the man up in his arms, giving him no quarter when he attempted to escape.

“You can and you will.  Because if it were any lesser threat than Thanos himself, there is nothing that could take me from your side at the present.”

Anthony’s eyes widened.

“You’re going to Asgard to fight him.  You’re going to fight him without me.”

Loki pulled away slightly to look into the Midgardian’s wounded eyes.

“Anthony, there is no way you could fight in your present state, and the twins are not yet ready to be born.  But if Asgard falls, the peril to us here will be much greater.  Surely you see that I must to go.”

The man growled in frustration.

“I hate this.  I fucking hate this.  You’re going away to face that fucking monster with only Thor and Bruce and a handful of others that you can actually rely on fighting on your side.  You know what kind of army Thanos is bringing with him.  It won’t be enough.”

Loki hushed him.

“It will have to be.  And if indeed it is not, we will cut our losses and reconvene here, where we will be better prepared, I trust?”  Loki raised an eyebrow in question at Stark.

The man sighed in frustration.

“Maybe.  I’ve been working on it, but I haven’t heard any word from the others, despite tracking down T’Challa and Barnes while you were away.”

Loki’s expression was distinctly displeased, he knew.

“We will be talking further about this when I return, Stark.”

The man huffed.

“Even Frigga and Farbauti agreed with the plan.”

Loki glared.

“I care not who agreed to it.  You did not discuss it with me, nor see fit to mention it to me when I returned.  But we have little time for this, now.  I have to leave, Stark.  We cannot allow the Realm Eternal to fall to Thanos.”

Stark went limp against him, pressing his forehead into Loki’s chest.

“I know.  So get going, already.  But you had damned well better come back, because I’m not going to face childbirth and the Mad Titan by myself, Loki.”

If Stark’s voice was a bit desperate, a tad unhinged, Loki wasn’t going to mention it.  He felt a tightness in his own chest at the idea of parting from the man under the present circumstances that, if questioned about, he would deny to his last breath.

He leaned in to kiss the Midgardian one last time, but stilled as a sense of wrongness prickled at the edges of his conscious.  He stepped away from Stark, pushing him behind himself just as the door burst open.  A group of four barged through, outlandish weapons pointed in Loki’s direction.

As Loki took in their appearances, he found himself at a loss for words, especially as his eyes lit on the only woman in their group.  This iteration of herself was a bit altered from the version of her they had encountered at Thanos’ bidding, but there was no mistaking his own flesh and blood.  As he glanced out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stark stiffen behind him, having come to the same realization.

Loki held up his hands, placatingly.

“Why, if it isn’t the band of brigands who call themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy.”

Gamora’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he correctly identified them.  The man at her side quickly pressed the release on the mask he was wearing, revealing a distinctly Midgardian countenance.  He supposed this must be the infamous Peter Quill, then.

“Look, tall, dark, and murderous.  I don’t care how the fuck you know who we are, but you’re sure as hell going to tell me what the fuck you’re doing with the Infinity Gem that was guarded by Nova Prime that disappeared so conveniently right before Thanos decided to turn Xandar into his own personal chew toy.”  The raccoon was practically spitting with fury.

Of course, it was at this point that Frigga and Farbauti came stumbling into the room, no doubt drawn by the racket their newest house guests were making.  Loki rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation.  He extended an arm, flourishing in welcome, and rolled his eyes.

“Please, do make yourselves at home.”

Drax’s hulking form eyed him in confusion.

“We’re here to take back the Infinity Stones from you, by force if necessary.  Why are you inviting us to make ourselves comfortable in your home?”

Loki watched, amused, as Peter face palmed and turned to Drax. 

“He’s not being literal, Drax.  He’s being a sarcastic piece of shit.” 

Obviously, this was a conversation that had played out between the group far too many times, if the way Rocket was wincing and the nonplussed expression on Gamora’s face were any indication.  Quickly, Loki drew Stark in front of him like a shield as the Midgardian spluttered in consternation. 

“What the fuck, Loki?  Some group of decidedly unfriendly freaks from outer space break into my house and you push your pregnant boyfriend in front of them like some kind of consolation prize?”

As his figure was revealed, the Guardians’ eyes had widened in shock.  Quill in particular looked absolutely flabbergasted.

“You’re Tony fucking Stark.”

Tony turned to look at the one other human in the room.

“No fucking shit, Sherlock.”  He turned back to give Loki a further tongue lashing, but Quill interrupted him.

“Why the fuck do you look almost the same as when I left Earth back in 1988?  Last I checked, you were human.”

“Wait, how fucking old are you, kid?”

“32.  The fuck does it matter?”

Tony groaned.

“God, I feel so fucking old.”  At Quill’s pointed glare, he added, “Metaphorically speaking.”  Tony ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end, and waved his arm about vaguely.  “To make a very long, complicated story short: chalk it up to intense alien hoodoo.”

Quill’s face was unimpressed.

“Also, last I checked, you were a guy.”

At this, Tony glared.

“Still am, asshat.  Alien hoodoo, remember?”

Quill shook his head, clearly a dismissal of things he didn’t want to think about.

“Whatever.  Listen, get out of the way so we can accost this guy.  He’s packing some seriously dangerous shit, and you guys are going to be fucked if he sticks around here with it.”

Tony crossed his arms, feet firmly planted as he scowled.

“Thanks for the heads up, but we’re already fucking aware.  And I think we’ll be holding on to these goodies.  We don’t know you goofs from Adam, and we’re not about to let you make off with all of our fire power before Thanos comes calling on earth again.”

This time, it was Gamora who looked disconcerted.

“What do you mean, again?”

“Princess here got captured by him, and Thanos used him to try and conquer earth.”

The mood in the room grew distinctly more threatening.

“Jesus, calm the fuck down, guys.  If you’d had your brains scrambled like breakfast eggs by an evil space overlord, you’d do some fucked up shit, too.  Good news is, my favorite bag of cats isn’t really a fan of the guy after that.  Who’d a thunk.”  Tony’s eyes had begun to glow eerie blue and vibrant gold as his seidr stirred in his agitation.

Across the room Frigga, who’d been a silent spectator through all of this, gasped.

“Loki, what have you done?”

Farbauti turned to Frigga in confusion, then noticed the change in the Midgardian’s eyes, his own widening in surprise.  Loki carefully examined his fingernails as Stark whirled to face him in confusion.

“Loki, what is Frigga talking about?”

Loki sighed, about to volunteer an explanation before the situation could grow worse, when Quill opened his trap again.

“Wait, wait, wait.  What?  Loki and Frigga?  I might not have been on earth long enough to get the full experience of the American educational system, but aren’t you two supposed to be, you know, myths?”

This time, it was Tony who face palmed.

“You’ve might have missed a few things in your time off world, Quill.  Like the invention of compact disks and lap top computers.  Cell phones small enough to fit in your pocket that are also cameras.  The Chitauri invasion of New York.  We’ve also had some crazy space gods come calling.  Unfortunately, Thor is off with daddy dearest trying to hold together the fort on Asgard.”  He narrowed his eyes.  “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like someone to explain to me exactly what the fuck is going on.”

Surprisingly, the room went hushed, though Rocket and Quill looked distinctly uncomfortable.  Tony looked threateningly back and forth between Frigga, Farbauti, and Loki.  Finally, the god met his eyes, his expression decidedly wary.

“I tricked you into eating a golden apple, Stark.”  Tony’s brows drew down in puzzlement.  “The fruit of the Aesir.  You’re a god now, with a god’s lifespan and a god’s vitality.”

Tony’s expression went shuttered. 

“I see.  Well, I think it’s about time you headed off to Asgard, now, Lokes.  I’d recommend you poof yourself out of here before these guys can stop you.”  Tony paused, eyes narrowing.  “And you’d better fucking hope you stop Thanos on Asgard, because if you don’t and he makes it here, you pretty much just doomed us to defeat.”

Loki reached out towards him, uncharacteristically hesitant, but Tony made no move to accept the contact.

“We’ll talk about this when you return.”

The if you return remained unspoken, but Loki heard it all the same.  He felt a pang of hurt, that the Midgardian was so willing to let them part under the present terms when there was the very real possibility that Loki would fall victim to Thanos while on Asgard.  Loki dipped his head in assent, lips tight, and vanished.

The others cried out in consternation, and Frigga and Farbauti moved to block their exit.

“Lady… giant blue dude, you’d best be getting the fuck out of my way.”  Rocket hefted his gun, in no mood to play now that their quarry was missing in action.

Tony moved to step between the Guardians and his nurse maids.

“Hold up just a minute, hotshot.  There’s some shit you need to take into consideration before you go gunning for Loki.”

Quill held up a hand to forestall Rocket.

“We’re listening, for now.”

“He’s going to Asgard, home of the Norse gods.  Thanos is striking there next.”  At their suspicious glances, Tony held up a hand in supplication.  “Look, we don’t know that because we’re cozying up with the bad guys.  There’s a god on Asgard whose job is basically just to watch what’s happening in the Nine Realms at all times.  Kind of creepy and peeping Tom esque if you ask me.  But he saw Thanos preparing to strike Asgard next.”

Tony ran a hand through his already well past ruffled hair.

“Normally, I’d say leave well enough alone, Asgard can defend itself.  But it’s still recovering from an attack by the dark elves.  Look, yeah, I know, that sounds crazy.  Basically, from what I understand, they thought the fuckers were extinct, so Odin ignored the threat until they were beating down the front door.  Old Odin’s still not in the best shape after that, there were casualties, and this is fucking Thanos.  So Thor and four of his buddies, Loki, and our friend Bruce who can basically turn into a giant fucking green rage monster went to ward off the attack as best they can, because we know if Thanos conquers Asgard he’s making his way here next.”

Tony, assured he had their attention now, took to pacing with nervous energy. 

“And that would be all kinds of fucking bad, because most of our heroes are scattered to the far ends of the earth right now after a fan-freaking-tastic falling out.  Also, I basically got poisoned by Thanos’ magic and the Infinity Gems, so the bastard can mind control me, and that ain’t all.  I’ve got magic now, and bastard somehow tweaked shit so he activated some dormant Kree DNA in my system, then made sure I got knocked up so he could…”  At this, Tony stopped, his eyes lighting on Gamora.

Her brows pulled down into a frown.

“What would he stand to gain from your pregnancy?”

At this, Frigga spoke up, unaware of just who the woman she spoke to was, having never come face to face with any of her incarnations as Tony and Loki had.

“He wants Anthony’s babes; he carries twins, and Thanos has enslaved them with the use of the gems in realities other than our own.”

Gamora’s eyes narrowed, the line of her mouth growing tight.

“Just who are your children, that they become servants of Thanos?”

Frigga was silent, having noticed the tension that suddenly filled the room.  Tony sighed, not meeting the woman’s eyes.

“From the way it sounds, you’ve already got it figured out.  Do you really want me to say it?”

Gamora pursed her lips.

“I was too young when my parents and brother died to remember them clearly, and it’s not as though Thanos took the time to answer my questions about them.”

Tony cleared his throat, grief slowly pooling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of all she had lost, at the knowledge that they had failed and their son had died in this Gamora’s reality.

“Yeah, well.  We’re hoping we manage to stick around long enough this time for you to know us.  And we’re definitely not planning on letting you get handed over to Thanos.”

Rocket, Drax, and Peter’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their heads.

“Whoaaaa.  Are you telling me that Tony fucking Stark and the Norse God of Lies are your parents, Gamora?  How is it even possible for him to be pregnant with baby you when you’re standing right here talking to him?”

“This is what happens when people fuck around with Infinity Gems, Quill.  You’d best get used to it.”  Tony smirked at Peter, but his expression was tender, hesitant when he turned to face Gamora.

“I guess you’re way too old to need parents you never knew, now.  But all the same, if you ever want to…”  He trailed off, knowing she understood his meaning without him further having to embarrass himself.  “I know Loki would feel the same.”  He found himself fidgeting.  “I hate that I can’t be on Asgard right now to help, and I hate even more that I’m asking this of you.  But from what I know about you, you’re way more badass than I’ve ever been, and you don’t need anybody handling you with kid gloves.  So, if you guys are really gunning for the Infinity Gems, and you really want to keep Thanos’ from wreaking more havoc, go to Asgard.  Help them defeat Thanos.  Make sure he doesn’t make it here, because I don’t want to be the one that leads him to victory on Midgard.”

Gamora’s gaze had softened as he spoke, and she stepped forward hesitantly, obviously unsure.  She carefully wrapped her arms around Tony, clearly unused to the gesture, and after a moment of shock Tony returned the embrace.  When they parted she smiled at him, the curve of her lips already familiar to him because he could recognize both himself and Loki in her.

Rocket groaned.

“Does this mean we’re going to help out the lunatic god that needs a haircut in the worst way?”

Drax clasped his hand on Rocket’s shoulder.

“It would appear we are indeed going to aid Gamora’s father.  Perhaps you can convince him of the necessity of a haircut while we do so.”

Quill joined Rocket in groaning. 

“This is going to fucking suck.”

Gamora rolled her eyes, and as she did so, Tony noticed a small figure crawl forward from behind Gamora’s pant leg.  He blinked in confusion as he realized that it looked like a twig, and it was waving at him shyly.  Tony slowly waved back, not entirely convinced he wasn’t hallucinating.

The look on Rocket’s face was disgusted.

“Even Groot likes this fucker.  We’re screwed.”


	9. Snow White and the Seven Giants

Tony was going to have to pay a fuck ton in landscaping to make up for Quill’s ship landing in his back yard.  But then, on the bright side, he supposed it wouldn’t matter if the Purple One came calling in all his evil glory.  Tony missed when he could only accurately apply that term to Prince Rogers Nelson.  His yard being demolished wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans when the rest of Earth was a smoldering ruin.  So Tony was feeling a little angsty.  Sue him.  He figured a pregnant human man that had unwittingly been turned into a deity was due a bit of snark.  Meeting the adult version of his unborn daughter who was bound to have a fuck ton of daddy issues was kind of the icing on the cake of fuckery that had become his life in the past few days.  Or really, if he wanted to be technical, since Loki put on a horned helmet and a tacky amount of gold and tried to conquer the planet with an alien army.

He sighed, attempting to rub away the headache he felt building behind his eyes.  As he did so, he stilled, feeling distinctly uneasy.  It wasn’t just stress from crazy outer space home intruders that had his head throbbing.  As he tuned into what he had been subconsciously trying to block out, Tony realized that it was the static-like pulse of that extra sense he had developed after he’d been exposed to the Terrigen Mist.  Though Tony knew well that meant Thanos had succeeded in turning him into an Inhuman, he still had no idea what the hell his new party trick might actually be, other than that the faint hum of sensation emanated from living organisms around him as well as electronics and machines.

As he focused on that thrumming in his head, he realized it was different from usual.  He could sense all the normal fizzing energy from the house and his lab, as well as from himself, Frigga, and Farbauti.  But it was louder, more insistent than usual, and didn’t have the familiar sense of static to it that Loki’s presence elicited.  Not that Tony would even begin to believe he could have made it back from Asgard so soon. 

He frowned in concentration, attempting to pick out the direction in which whatever was bothering his mysterious new hoodoo was located.  He left his suite of rooms, wandering along the halls until he reached the far wing of the mansion, which had rarely been used since the death of his parents.  That steady thrum grew louder, more persistent, and Tony was finally able to pick it apart to note that it contained of a multitude of elements, and that they were distinctly human feeling.

He braced himself, throwing up his most convincing glamour (and he’d had plenty of practice to perfect that particular technique).  He called upon his seidr, bringing it to invisibly dance at his fingertips, and wrenched opened the door to what had once been his parents’ suite in the house.  As the room beyond was revealed, he felt himself gaping.  At this point, he’d given up hope of good ole’ Steve deciding to make an appearance, but before him stood none other than the Captain himself, Barnes and T’Challa at his side.

As he skimmed the room behind them, he picked out Rhodey, Vision, and Pepper, who had taken up the slack for the other Avengers currently M.I.A. and been pretty much run ragged since Tony’s untimely showdown with Steve and Bucky.  In the farthest corner of the room, he noted one of the last people he’d expected to show up when he’d sent out his summons: Natasha, looking dour even by her usual standards. 

Tony quickly packed away the magic, making his way into the room.  He hurriedly shut the door behind him, in the hopes that Frigga and Farbauti would not be drawn by their voices, and that if they came looking for him for any other reason, they’d find a closed door and leave well enough alone for the time being.  He turned to face the others, fidgeting restlessly.  He really couldn’t decide if he was glad Loki was off playing Nordic god in space right now, because as much as getting discovered with Loki could suck, most of the occupants of the room already knew that down and dirty secret.  Save for Barnes, T’Challa, and good ole’ Steve, who were really the ones making him want to toss his cookies in panic.  And letting them knew meant letting Clint, Lang, Wanda, and Wilson in on his not so little secret.  Well, secrets.  That also meant he’d have to tell Parker, and god did he ever not want to know what the kid’s reaction to him getting knocked up by Loki would be.  Honestly, at least with telling Parker he only risked death by embarrassment, though.

“So, guys.  Welcome to my humble abode.  Glad you all seem to have gotten your invites to the party.”

Steve, predictably, scowled.  The others mostly just looked unimpressed.

“Cut the crap, Stark, and tell us exactly what it is that made you track us down and call us here.  Because for the life of me, I can’t figure out what you could possibly have left to say, at least not to me.” 

Which, unfair, Cap.  Best friend murders your bro’s parents?  No big deal.  Said bro attempts to avenge those parents, or at least put away a man that essentially doubles as a serial killer when his brains go wonky, and then he’s got a problem? 

“As T’Challa and Barnes may have so kindly informed you all, we’re looking at alien invasion.  I’m talking New York level shit, except on some serious steroids.”

The look Steve turned on him was both disturbed and doubting.

“How, exactly, would you have gotten information about this invasion, when no one in the government or S.H.I.E.L.D. has seen or heard anything unusual?”

Yeah, so this was definitely the part Tony was dreading.  Fucking Christ, he wished he could have a goddamn drink.  Well, it was like ripping off a band aid, right?  The quicker you do it, or some shit.  He personally didn’t believe it would make the experience any more painless, but at least he wouldn’t be prolonging his own suffering.

“Because I kind of shacked up with Loki when he made a prison break and faked his death?”

The look Steve turned on him was full of disbelief, so much so that anger had yet to set in, and Tony could work with that.  Because Tony?  Definitely did not need something like 200 pounds of enraged super soldier deciding to give him a good pounding, not under his present circumstances.  So, since he’d already done the worst reveal, he went ahead and said goodbye to his beautiful, wonderful glamour with a wince.

“Also, please don’t hit me I’m pregnant.”  The words came out in a jumble, only just slow enough to be interpretable. 

Steve’s eyes widened incredulously, and he openly gaped.  The look Barnes’ turned on him was shocked, yes, but also incredibly guilty.  T’Challa appeared as though he were just carefully taking all the information from this shit show and carefully boxing it away for examination at a later date with a stiff drink.  The rest of the gang, who’d already been privy to the details of Tony’s bat shit insane life, looked both guilty and fed up.  Which, to be fair, he probably deserved after going after Bucky guns blazing by himself when he was pregnant and had no business facing off with the bastard in the first place.  The teammates he had on his side knowing this only made their disgust with his actions all the more justified.  At least Rhodey and Vision hadn’t sworn him off, though.  They’d just been busy taking up the slack left by Tony’s poor decisions.

However, once everyone got past gaping at the one place he’d really just prefer nobody look at ever, period, until this whole mess was over, he saw them carefully begin to register the other less dramatic alterations to his body.  Natasha, Pepper, Rhodey, and Vision had some idea of the whys and the hows with that, but he was still going to have to explain himself to the rest.

“So, to make a long story short, because you’re obviously still processing… Loki wasn’t the one who orchestrated the attack on New York.  He kind of just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  And by the wrong place, I mean fell into the farthest reaches of space to where the Chitauri call home and was tenderly ministered to by their master.  Not saying he isn’t bag of cats crazy, and also a complete diva, but yeah.  He may have had more brain power than Clint, but if he fucked up conquering earth, he knew his life was probably going to be forfeit.”

As he saw Steve gearing up for a rant, he quickly gulped down enough air to get him through the next torrent of words he needed to say before stars and stripes started to lay into him.

“When Loki tried to control me with the Infinity Stone, the power source we used to bring Vision to life, energy from the stone and from Loki’s alien overlord got trapped in my arc reactor and started fucking with me.  It made me develop powers of my own, but it also means that Thanos can control me without using the mind control powers from the gem we got from Loki’s scepter.  And apparently my love children with Loki end up being enslaved by Thanos in some other dimensions or timelines, so he decided to screw with my biochemistry further and knock me up.  Once that was done, he sent some of his minions to do some other alterations to make sure that both I and my offspring would be acceptably useful tools, I guess.  Regardless, it pretty much means I’m not fucking human anymore, and once the bad guys come calling, you can’t fucking trust me.”

Tony decided that it was probably best to leave out the fact that he’d subjected himself to Extremis before he knew the extent of Thanos’ control over him, and that Loki had made him a god only all too aware of those circumstances.

“So, basically, the world needs saving.  It might even need saving from me, once these buns are out of the oven.  We were barely enough together to handle New York.  If we’re going to handle worse, and if you’re going to be facing off against me as well, you all need to be together in this.”

And yeah, Steve was starting to look as apoplectic as Tony had imagined he would be.  However, surprising Tony, he merely lifted his hand in a gesture to stop, rubbing at his eyes with a wince with his other.  

“There is so much wrong with all of this that I don’t even know where to start.  But you’re right, it sounds like we don’t really have time for that right now.  I’ll track down Clint, Sam, Scott, and Wanda.  Then, you can tell us everything, every detail start to finish.” 

Tony waggled his eyebrows.

“You sure about that, Cap?”

The glare Steve pointed on him held a wealth of disappointment, and Tony actually found himself feeling a bit remanded.  But fuck that, because what Steve had been willing to risk for Bucky was no less terrible than what Tony had risked in being with Loki.

“If we have time after all of that, then you can count on whatever horrifying reaction I can tell you were expecting, Tony.”  Something seemed to occur to him, his brows furrowing.  “Wait, so Lyell…?”

“Yehp.”  Tony drew out the p with a pop, deciding to leave it at that.

Tony guessed that Steve’s reaction was all that he could ask under the circumstances, really.

Steve started to turn away, then paused and encompassed everyone else with his stony expression. 

“And don’t think I didn’t notice that some of you seemed distinctly unsurprised by all of this.”  With that, Steve made his exit, and the rest of the Avengers still milling about began to dissipate throughout the rest of the mansion.

 

Loki stood on the crumbling remnants of one of Asgard’s palace towers, taking in the devastation that surrounded him.  Around him, Thor and Bruce’s nigh inexhaustible strength was flagging, even Byleistr and Helblindi appearing haggard.  In contrast, Chitauri kept coming at them in droves, their numbers seemingly limitless.  On the horizon, Thanos watched, his face split into a grotesque semblance of a smile. 

Loki quickly deflected another bolt of Amora’s magic, watching as the Hulk hurled Skurge’s massive form away from himself, disarming the beast of his trademark battle axe.  Loki felt a chill run down his spine and whirled around, but he was too late.  Behind him, Gamora had appeared, her glowing teal hand reaching into the space around Loki and searching, then pulling, tugging…

Loki tried to wrench away in horror, but he heard a menacing growl from behind him.  Loki did not bother to turn around, bracing himself instead as he felt the heat of Garmr’s giant maw opening.  The beast’s fangs pierced the flesh of his torso, and Loki was barely able to resist crying out in agony.  He wrenched his eyes back open at the sound of Gamora’s laughter.

“Loki Lost-One, it seems you’ve already let one Infinity Stone slip from your grasp.  However did you allow yourself to be parted from dominion over time, I wonder?  Perhaps, instead of liberating you of the remaining stones at this moment, I shall wait and allow your lover to seal your fate, instead.”  The woman’s smile was menacing, her eyes, so like Loki’s own, disconcerting in their madness.  “Yes, I think my master shall find that infinitely more pleasing.”  She tutted in a manner all too like Loki himself.  “I would worry about you using the stones yourself, however, even a Jotunn and sorcerer such as yourself could not attempt to wield more than one stone without succumbing to their power.”  She smirked.  “And I believe we both know it will take far more than one Infinity Stone to turn the tide on this battle, especially since you’ve no longer the hope of turning the tide of time.”

Loki shuddered, wondering once more if allowing the Ancient One possession of the Time Gem, or as the earthen sorcerers called it, the Eye of Agamotto, had been the right course of action.  Loki trusted Strange no further than he could throw him, and what good had the man achieved with its use?  The Ancient One was dead, and though earth had been spared for a time, Loki was unsure that Strange would stand and fight with them when the need arose once more.  He was further unnerved by Gamora’s knowledge of this fact, as he had let none know of his reallocation of the Time Gem, not even Stark.  But the “gift” of foresight he had inherited from Frigga had niggled at his conscious mind until the idea took root, and though Loki had seen no true visions of what that decision would make of their future, he had been no less guided by those Norns’ accursed powers than if he had.

Suddenly, Garmr’s hot breath and piercing fangs retreated from Loki’s flesh, and Gamora’s shrill laughter rang out once more.  Loki fought dizziness as blood seeped from the wounds his son had inflicted, wrenching around to see where the great beast had directed his next attack.  When Loki spotted him, loping at a ground eating pace toward Odin where he focused his magic on one of the great Leviathans of the Chitauri army that the Guardians were battling, Loki felt a surge of panic.  True, at present there may be no love lost between himself and his former foster father, but if Odin fell now, Loki feared for the fate of them all.

In an instant, he disappeared and reformed at Odin’s side, fending the beast off with a violent burst of green magic, feeling himself stumble, one knee coming to hit the ground as his vision went hazy.  Behind him, he felt gnarled fingers gripping his shoulder tightly, then Odin’s voice echoed forcefully over the chaos around them.

“We retreat to Midgard!”

Loki felt a surge of the old god’s magic pushing a wall betwixt themselves and the alien intruders to their realm.  Loki shook off his disconcertion, forcing his own magic to build alongside the Aesir’s so that their remaining combatants could retreat to the Bifrost.  Though Thor’s friends, Thor himself, Loki’s brothers, Banner, the Guardians, and Odin had survived the raging chaos that had descended upon them, perilous few others had made it.  Quickly, as the others made it to the rainbow bridge, he pulled Odin along with him in retreat. 

When they reached Heimdall, Odin met his eyes, his face grave.

“Activate the Bifrost for all of us to cross over to Midgard.  Cross with us, but before you do, ensure that the bridge will be destroyed behind you, so that they may not follow us to our destination.”

Though Loki knew there was no other option, the words still shocked him to his core.  But he had no more time to process such an admission of defeat from the arrogant king he had thought Odin to be, for their magic was quickly collapsing under the assault of Thanos’ forces, and they must flee now or face utter destruction.

Odin turned to Loki as they stepped upon the bridge that would carry them back to Stark’s world. 

“Loki, I believe it is time that we locate the part of my soul that you cast into a mortal body and return it to my own flesh.”

Loki cast his eyes on Odin in suspicion.

“I know not where it can be found.  You are the only one with insight into the other life I had granted you to lead.”

The expression Odin turned on him was distinctly unimpressed.

“Now is not the time for your foolishness, Loki.  I will not have my full power until you return that which you cast out of me.  It is beyond miraculous you were able to return my true body to consciousness without doing so, and even more so considering your mother did not begin to suspect something to be amiss.  But you must abandon your pride, lest you would allow this monster to win merely because your own stubbornness granted him the victory.”

Loki narrowed his eyes in distaste.

“So be it; I do so hope you have enjoyed your time among the mortals.  Perhaps you will find yourself far more equipped to undertake our present stay on Midgard after your vacation from both your kingly and godly duties.”

Loki felt a small trill of satisfaction at the disgust so plain on Odin’s face as Heimdall joined them in a flash of multicolored light.  The last thing Loki saw before he was pitched through the star filled void of space was a series of explosions, a riot of colors filling the skyline of Asgard as the Bifrost began to crumble behind them.

 

Tony stared in horror at the bedraggled horde of Jotnar and Aesir that stumbled into his mansion, along with his daughter’s band of brigands.  When he saw the gaping holes in Loki’s torso, especially, he felt a roil of unease within him.  It seemed blatantly obvious that whatever had gone down on Asgard, it had hardly been good.  The somber mood of the entire party only made him all the more certain that Thanos had claimed victory over Asgard.

Tony watched, mute, as Frigga and Farbauti rushed to heal the injured.  Pepper, Natasha, Rhodey, Vision, T’Challa, and even Barnes waded through the chaos to help, procuring bandages, antiseptic, and water.  The huge and hulking bodies of Loki’s Jotnar brothers and what remained of the legion they had led to aid Asgard would not have fit in the compound or the Tower, and only fit in the mansion because of the grandiose size of the rooms and the vaulted ceilings his parents had favored.  It was still a close fit, though, all the wounded packed into the foyer and front rooms like the world’s largest can of sardines. 

What must have been hours later, Loki came to curl around Tony in their bed, his body limp with exhaustion, but nearly buzzing with tension.  Tony turned to him, carefully peeling his shirt away from his torso and inspecting what remained of Loki’s wounds after Frigga and Farbauti had tended to him.  The scars in the flesh of his back and torso were large and jagged; it looked like something the size of an elephant, but with distinctly sharper teeth, had bitten into him and shaken him like a rag doll.  Tony could only think of one creature large enough to inflict such wounds.  Granted, there was always the possibility that some creature on Asgard would fit the bill, or that the Chitauri had brought with them some new and horrific monster.  But Tony was pretty sure he knew whose fangs had sunk into Loki’s flesh, had let his blood until practically no color whatsoever was left in his already blanched skin. 

Tony shuddered in horror, a hand coming down to wrap defensively around the curve of his abdomen.  Whether he was attempting to protect himself or the two terrifyingly small lives within him, he did not know, and that knowledge made him feel wretched with guilt.  But how was Tony supposed to process the fact that the son he would soon birth had tried to rend Loki apart?  How was Tony supposed to protect anyone, when even for all his newfound power, he could not even protect himself from the hold Thanos had on his mind?

Loki wrapped him carefully in his arms, his wretched mouth for once uncharacteristically silent.  When they finally found sleep that night, it was dreamless, but they slept no more soundly for it.  All but the very worst of their nightmares had already been realized, so there was little more horror that dreams could bring that reality had not already provided. 

 

When he woke the next morning, Loki was already dressed, and obviously just itching for a conversation that Tony could already tell he didn’t want to have.  So, he sat up, sighed, and then ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y. to have Butterfingers, Dum-E, and U to bring him his allotted daily cup of caffeine (and seriously, being pregnant ruined all his fun coping mechanisms, and he was so over it).  Even after so many months of his bots managing the task without any horrific repercussions, it still boggled his mind, but he’d chosen not to look that particular gift horse in the mouth.  Though, he did miss JARVIS’ equal degree of terror stricken awe at their adeptness with a coffee maker.  F.R.I.D.A.Y. just hadn’t been around long enough to understand the full scope of the horror that was his bots undertaking a task and carrying it out without error.

Once Tony had swigged down the last of his caffeinated drug of choice, he looked at his now empty cup mournfully.  He then sighed, and finally turned to face Loki.

“So, what new and dire mission are you running off on now?”

Loki glared at him, distinctly unamused.

“Odin may have required that I accompany him to retrieve something.  Seeing as I am the one who misplaced it for him while he was sleeping, it would seem I am obligated to humor him, lest I should be willing to risk our not receiving his aid when Thanos arrives here on earth.”

Tony snorted.

“Yeah, you have fun with daddy dearest.  I’m so devastated I can’t accompany you.  But I’m afraid travel is out of the question, what with my current condition and all.”

Loki’s eyes took on a poisonous gleam.

“I thought to take this opportunity to track down a certain sorcerer here on Midgard to aid in our efforts.  He does rather favor you, prior to your restored youth.  Perhaps I shall try my hand at courting him.  What’s that saying about fine wine… I’d be hard pressed to tell, but his facial hair just may ever so slightly more well-groomed than even your own, Stark.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.  You do that, and you’ll be the one paying child support.  Not that I need the money, but hey, it’s the principle of the matter.”

Loki’s snort was decidedly undignified, but then, Tony did seem to draw that out in him.

“Laugh it up while you’re able, Stark.  I do hope you enjoy all your houseguests.  I believe Rogers should be arriving with reinforcements, soon, and I imagine Farbauti and my dear brothers will be bringing over the rest of their warriors, should they be able.  I should think it will be like one great slumber party.”

Tony groaned.

“Point taken, you bastard.  Fine.  I hope Odin doesn’t strangle you in your sleep, and hurry back soon.  I won’t be left to babysit a bunch of your pissy Viking and smurf relatives with you out romancing other sorcerers.  Not to mention that piss-ant that’s trying to seduce our daughter.  Seriously, he probably has space herpes.  Now come give me a kiss before you leave, you fucking bastard.”

It was always hard to tell with Loki, but Tony had the feeling his expression was pleased, perhaps even fond as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to Tony’s lips and disappeared in a puff of smoke, like the smarmy little bitch he was.

 

When Steve returned, Clint, Wilson, Wanda, and Lang in tow, he brought two new and unanticipated additions: Hope van Dyne and Carol Danvers.  The former (and a bit of the present) S.H.I.E.L.D.  contingent had come along with him as well in the form of Fury, Agent Hill, Sharon Carter, and Coulson.  To add insult to injury, Parker had tagged along with them (and Tony had no idea when he and Cap had found the time to exchange contact information, but whatever, it was clear Peter was all but school girl crushing on Steve).  Tony had been waiting to contact the kid as a last resort.  It looked like Steve had saved him the decision. 

Needless to say, what with all of the new comers around the place, and distinctly unfriendly super soldiers loitering about, Tony kept to his own wing of the vast manor.  He also spared more magic than was probably advisable to upkeep his glamour.  He may have revealed his present state to the people he’d already fought and bled with, but he’d be damned if one more person who didn’t know him got to be privy to those details.  Unexpectedly, he frequently found himself accompanied by Loki’s brothers, as Frigga and Farbauti were still busy tending to many of the house’s new occupants; he found their presence, and the cold they generated, oddly soothing as he grew closer to term.

Gamora also frequently made her way to his side, which he found pleased him more than he’d ever care to admit.  Neither of them appeared to have the faintest idea of how they should begin to interact with each other, and surprisingly enough Byleistr and Helblindi seemed to smooth the way for them a bit.  He could tell Gamora truly enjoyed growing to know her uncles, and Tony found himself rather fond of Byleistr’s cutting tongue and Helblindi’s sharp wit.  They reminded him of Loki, though he’d never be mentioning that fact to his lover.  Despite this, however, both giants tended toward a sternness that was hard to find in Loki with all his mischief.  But once Tony had seen what the pair got up to while drinking, he found himself inclined to believe the penchant for trouble making might be a familial trait, indeed.

Gamora’s presence also meant he was exposed to a great quantity more time with Quill, whom he’d really rather avoid as much as possible.  More time spent together had not helped to endear them to each other, and in fact, Tony found him more irritating each time they interacted, if that were even possible.  But perhaps, just perhaps, Tony could admit in his heart of hearts that the way Quill stole longing glances at Gamora was wherein the true source of his ire stemmed.  At any rate, at this stage of his pregnancy, he was hard pressed to name anything or anyone whom he did not want to strangle.

Especially Loki, who was so conveniently M.I.A. with Odin and Thor.  The bastard had better hope like hell that he made it back to Midgard before Tony was forced to birth his offspring like some kind of prize cow, because Tony was so not going to be subjected to that kind of horror on his own.  But as Tony thought on what he’d asked Frigga and Farbauti to do, he began to hope that perhaps Loki would not make it back in time, because explaining to him why he’d had their offspring spirited away without so much as a clue to their location was a can of worms that Tony was in no way ready to deal with opening. 


End file.
